


ARCHIVED! Lofn

by SilverFountains



Series: ARCHIVED WORKS [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternative Lore, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal Virginity, Angst, Brotherly Affection, Character Death, Fantastic Racism, Felching, Forbidden Love, Hate Speech, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Illness, Oral Sex, Prostate Orgasm, Religious Fanaticism, True Love, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Unrequited Crush, Usurpation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THIS STORY HAS BEEN ARCHIVED. NO FURTHER UPDATES WILL APPEARS HERE. PLEASE REFER TO "LOFN" WERE IT IS REPUBLISHED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Belong to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witchesdelite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchesdelite/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CARO EMERALD LYRICS - the song that inspires me writing this story.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYNUg5j7tr0&index=1&list=RDpYNUg5j7tr0

 

Under the stars  
There shines one light  
That always glistens  
Always listens  
To the whispers of the night  
  
When skies are black  
Full of despair  
I asked the sun  
To tell the moon  
That two of us are there  
  
The afterglow  
That's down below  
Is when I see your smile  
And in your eyes  
True love decides  
Forever is a word that cries  
  
That I belong to you  
That endless nights are far away  
Are gone and you  
Could never love another  
And I love you too  
I see it up above  
And now I feel the truth  
  
We overlooked  
Us ocean deep  
But now this river  
That we're swimming through  
Is promises we keep  
  
The suns comes up  
There is no heat  
'Cause what we're feeling  
Is revealing  
All we dared  
  
So let it burn  
It takes its turn  
One, we never would allow  
There is no heart  
That chance will break  
Nothing else, could ever stop us now  
  
That I belong to you  
That endless nights are far away  
Are gone and you  
Could never love another  
And I love you too  
  



	2. Lofn

Now republished as Lofn chapter 34 : 

<http://archiveofourown.org/works/4836707/chapters/13056271>


	3. Sedition

Thorin was not well enough to provide the royal blessing at the end of the Summer Festival  and Fili had found himself stood in his full princely attire addressing the gathered crowd once more.  Now he feels exhausted and sad as he knocks on the door of his uncle’s private chambers.

“Enter,” comes Balin’s voice from within. Thorin’s closest and most trusted friends are taking it in turns to sit with their friend and their king, hoping – praying – for a change in his condition. After he had collapsed at the opening banquet of Midsummer he had opened his eyes later that evening. But the stare was blank and his body remained rigid. And Fili thought it was eerie to see him like that; his strong and at times intimidating uncle lying like he was dead in the stone yet somehow still breathing. He did not like coming here. He did not like seeing Thorin like this. But it was his duty to relief Balin from his watch and it was his duty to Thorin to look after him.

“Any change?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. There has been no change for nearly two weeks now. And he wonders how his uncle can go so long without food or drink or even relieving himself and yet still be alive.

Balin sadly shakes his head. “I am afraid not, _'Uzbad_ Fili _._ How did it go? The blessing of the festival?”

Fili shrugs. “Fine.” _Not really. It should have been Thorin. I know that everyone wanted it to be Thorin and not me._

Balin puts a hand on the blond prince’s shoulder.  “You will make a fine king one day,” he reassures him. “But not yet. He will get better, Fili.”

Fili looks at the older dwarf and wonders who he is trying to convince here. “There are whispers,” he says softly. “They think I do not hear their tongues wag, but I do.” He lowers his voice, just in case Thorin can hear them. “They say that Thorin has gone mad. That he is possessed.”

Balin nods. He has heard the whispers also. “He is not,” he says calmly. “He is ill, that is all.” But equally he knows not how to turn the tide of ill-spoken rumours. They have tried to reassure the people. Bless Fili, he has tried so hard to keep the festival going and continue to waylay any concerns over the king’s health.  What else can they do? Unless Thorin somehow recovers from his unknown condition what else are people to think but that he has lost his mind or worse? “Will you be okay?” he asks the prince kindly, glancing back at Thorin.

“Yes, master Balin,” Fili nods. Dwalin had promised to keep him company later. It was clearly not the way he had intended to spend his courtship with the warrior, but all thoughts of anything else were now forgotten in view of the situation at hand.

He watches his elder leave the room and finds himself alone with the still form that houses his uncle. Normally he sits himself on the chair in the corner. But tonight he needs more comfort from his uncle. He climbs onto the large bedstead and snuggles himself up against Thorin’s body. It is strange to feel the warmth radiate from his unmoving form. Being so still he almost expects Thorin to be cold like the stone he seems to have turned to. “Thorin,” he whispers, not knowing if his uncle can even hear him. “Thorin, please come back. I … I cannot do this on my own.” He can feel a tear slip from his eye and run down his cheek. “I miss you, uncle. Mum has gone to bring Kili back to you. Please Thorin, you must wake up!”

He sighs sadly as there is no response, but then jolts as he suddenly as he can feel a finger brush against his hand. “Thorin!” He looks at the hand, but it remains as still as it had been and he thinks perhaps he has imagined it. He tentatively runs his fingers over his uncle’s broad hand, tracing over the silver rune ring. His breath hitches as this time he sees the fingers move ever so slightly under his touch. “Oh Thorin,” he gasps. “You are there! You can feel my touch! Can you hear me?” He looks closely at his uncle’s face, but there is nothing there. Just the blank and unblinking stare.  Still, he is sure now that at least there is something there. Thorin may be somehow locked in his own body, but he feels that he knows he is here.

He threads his fingers carefully into his uncle’s hand as he rests his head on his chest, listening to the achingly slow beat inside. “The festival has finished,” he begins to talk, feeling more confident now that he is not just talking to an empty shell. And now that he thinks Thorin can hear him he feels obliged to talk to him, to be the one connection back to the outside world for him. “I gave the blessing, uncle. I … I think you would have been proud of me.” He shudders as he can feel the slightest shift in the hand wrapped around his own again, taking this as an acknowledgement. “Everything is going well, Thorin, you need not worry. But your people miss you. They  need you, uncle. They need to see that you are still their strong leader.”

He slowly pulls his hand back and sits himself up. He looks at his uncle’s face, his beautiful dark hair contrasting even more against his pale skin. Fili crawls over to his uncle’s dresser and rummages around for the crystal-toothed comb. He carefully pulls the out the royal beads that hold together Thorin’s braids and begins to unravel them.  Slowly he begins to drag the ornate comb through his uncle’s thick hair, pulling out any knots until the smooth strands fall across the pillows. “I miss you, Thorin,” he whispers as he begins to pull the thick braids back into the hair. “I miss you in the forge. And now I miss you at home too. When you are better, I would like us to go hunting together again. Or maybe we can go to one of the towns of men to negotiate trade. I would like that, Thorin,” he rambles on, afraid of the silence that so starkly reminds him of Thorin’s illness.

Just as he has finished fastening the beads back into Thorin’s hair there is a knock on the door and moments later Dwalin appears. He raises a surprised eyebrow at finding his lover sat next to Thorin and then smiles as he sees the re-braided strands. “He will appreciate that,” he says looking at his king. “No change?”

Fili slides of the bed and wraps  his arms around the big guard, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “Actually, there is. I am sure he can hear me,” he smiles. “And I could feel his finger move against my hand. It was only slight, but it happened a couple of times when I spoke to him. I know he is still there, Dwalin. He just needs help to come back.”

Dwalin runs his hand gently along Fili’s cheek. “That is good, little prince. And when Dis returns with your brother, we must all pray that Kili will know how to bring him back.”

“He will,” Fili smiles confidently, leaning into the comforting embrace.

***

Lord Suthri strokes his hand over his long white beard as he considers the information that master Svior has just told him.

“So, you are saying that King Thorin has gone mad? Possessed you say?” he says slowly. He exchanges a meaningful glance with Horth.

“Aye, _Zebdarê,”_ Svior nods eagerly. “I saw it with my own eyes! He attacked _Ardsagart_ Gorm and then he fell to the floor thrashing his arms and legs about. I looked after his Venerable Lordship, _Zebdarê_ , as he recovered from the attack. And he told me then. He had seen it before, he said. It is an evil, he said.”

“Thank you, master Svior,” Suthri nods. “You have done your duties well and you may now take you leave and enjoy the rewards of your assignment.”

The other dwarf, weary from the long journey, bows deeply and gratefully leaves to enjoy the indulgences of the alehouse and some welcome company.

 “Well well,” Suthri turns to his advisor. “It appears our King really has lost his mind this time.”

“Do you really think he is possessed?” Horth asks nervously.

Suthri shrugs. “Gorm is well known for his dramatics. But it matters not. Whether he is possessed or just mad, he is not fit to rule.”

“No, no, clearly he is not,” Horth is quick to agree with his lord. He holds no love for Thorin or the House of Durin. Ever since Lord Suthri made the decision to move them to the Southern Mountains, he had been grateful for the steer of the older lord in the true lore and culture of the dwarves – something that the dwarves of the Northern Mountains under Durin’s rule appeared to have forgotten. Thorin’s laws were weak, allowing thieves to keep their hands and allowing dams to openly court bucks during the festivals. Indeed, their females were even allowed to work in male professions and practice weapon craft. And Thorin allowed the lowest of ranks to dine amongst the elite – what a truly unappetising thought that was! At least Suthri reminded his people how they were supposed to abide by the laws of Mahal, living like good dwarrow folk. It was no wonder that  the _Ardsagart_ remained in the Northern Mountains. The poor Highpriest no doubt had his hands full trying to steer the deluded _Fahamûnh_ back onto the righteous path. And now finally King Thorin has been shown for what he truly was – a mad King, mad like his father and grandfather before him.

“We must send aid to _Ardsagart_ Gorm,” Suthri states as he gets to his feet and walks to the little altar in the corner of his private audience room. “Thorin must be challenged. We cannot allow a _Khathághim_ to lead our people or he will doom us all! Mahal will be sure to strike his mighty hammer at us for his insolence!”

Horth’s eyes bulge in fright. “No, _Zebdarê!_ Please, you must save us from such a fate.”

Suthri turns back with a stoic smirk. “Do not worry, master Horth. We are not lost yet. But we need to act fast. Mahal is forgiving of our sins if we show Him our true devotion. If Thorin has led our brethren of the North astray then it is our duty to save them and return them to the righteous path. With _Ardsagart_ ’s wisdom to guide us.”

“Aye, _Zebdarê_ ,” Horth nods, eternally grateful for his lord’s wisdom. Then he has a thought. “And how do we do that? Thorin is protected by Sovereign Immunity …”

“So he is,” Suthri nods. He considers his options, proudly stroking his beard once more – another symbol of their people that Thorin has disregarded! “Then we will have to find a way to show his people that Thorin holds no regard for Mahal’s laws.”

“And if he does not admit to his failings? If he does not stand down voluntarily …?”

Lord Suthri turns to his trusted advisor, but even then lowers his voice as what he is about to say could easily cost him his head. “Then we will have to find another way to displace him. We cannot allow our Northern brethren to suffer the wrath of Our Lord because of the madness that runs through the royal blood of Durin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ardsagart = Highpriest  
> Khathághim = "provoker". One who challenges the word of a priest of Mahal.  
> Fahamûnh – the dwarves of the Northern Moutains


	4. 'Adad

Her heart feels heavy as she and her entourage approach the first of the twin harbour towns. Of course she is looking forward to seeing her son - this had been the first time her baby had been away from her for more than a week and without knowing he was under the safe wing of his uncle she had worried about him every moment of every day. But equally she is dreading it. How is she going to tell Kili about Thorin's condition? And then of course there is another worry weighing down on her. Does he know? Does Kili know her secret – their secret?

"Are you alright, milady?" Dai asks as she looks at the princess with concern.

“Yes, yes, just weary from the travelling,” Dis smiles faintly.

Dai nods, knowing there is much more to it than that. How lady Dis is still as strong as she is is beyond the round-chested dwarrowdam.  With the princess’ brother overcome by an unknown illness, her eldest son running the affairs in Thorin’s Halls when he has not even fully matured yet and her youngest living at the court of an elvish lord, she thinks anyone else would have gone mad by now. But Dis, as she has come to expect from the strong Durin, is dealing with all these matters in such a calm and pragmatic manner. “We are nearly there, milady,” she says kindly, wishing she could shoulder some of her lady’s burdens. “I will send the messenger ahead to notify Lord Nowë of our arrival.”

“Thank you, Dai.” Dis returns her gaze to the horizon. The last time she had seen the spires of Thafar'fundsilfînh rise up against the sky had been forty-one years ago, when she had travelled here to negotiate on Thorin’s behalf whilst he looked after Fili back in his halls, doting on the cosset better than a mother could. She had not known then in what state she would be returning to her brother, carrying the child of an elvish lord. If anyone had told her that when she had first seen the sun reflect off the silver tiles of the city roofs, like the scales of a fish, she would have scolded them for causing such offence! She, like her brother, could hold no love for the race that abandoned their people when they needed their help the most. How wrong she would have been.

The elves of Thafar'fundsilfînh were nothing like what she had expected. She had never met any of the elven kind before. Back in Azsâlul'abad she had been kept out of any matters of politics, instead being taught what her elders felt were duties appropriate for a dwarrowdam of her standing. And so she her main impression of the elves was from the bitter tales of her elders and brother, of how the elves were an untrustworthy, traitorous and honourless race.

But that is not what she had found when she had been invited to Lord Nowë’s court. Despite her initial hostile stance towards the elf-prince and his people, he had invited her into his home with open arms. She had been asked to dine with the highlord himself and slowly her suspicion of him and his subordinates turned to interest, admiration and respect. These were an ancient race, with a wealth of knowledge well beyond her own and that which was preserved by Durin’s folk. But to her surprise they were not arrogant about it; instead they sought to share their knowledge with her whilst absorbing any new information she offered in return.

Nowë also spoke highly of her grandfather and greatgrandfather. And he expressed his regret how the grandson of King Thror had never visited Thafar'fundsilfînh up till then, but how delighted he was that the princess of Durin’s folk had granted them such honour and how he hoped they could re-strengthen the allegiances between their  people over time.

And then he had introduced her to one of his many-times-over greatgrandsons - an elvish prince still many years over her mortal age, but young for elvish principles. The elvish royal had not swept her off her feet the minute she saw him as he was hardly the handsome buck she would have expected to be the father of her second child. For an elf he was not that tall, but his face was smooth as a newborn babe and his hair was fine like spidersilk. Equally to him she thought she must have looked just as unattractive, with her richly jewelled beard and stout stature.

But as they got to know each other they soon learnt that there was a mutual attraction between them that ran far beyond their physical appearance. Lord Sadrondor took it upon himself to teach her about the elvish culture and customs, including the complicated address between them. He also taught her some of their history and the history of the harbour towns, much of which was closely entwined with the history of the dwarvish clans who had lived in the mountains long before Thorin had brought them here. And Dis had been fascinated by it all. Amongst her own people the teachings of bucks and dams were vastly different, each focusing on those elements of the lore that were relevant for their task in pleasing Mahal. Bucks learnt about the honours of warfare, when dams learnt about the blessing of childbirth. But here were things about the history of her people that she had never heard before. And as each day passed she grew closer to this blue-blooded elf.

As she got to know him better she was most surprised to find that he was fun to be around. On first arrival she had been startled by how serious the elves seemed. Always dressed so proper, their voices always softly spoken. But such were their customs around court. Outside that they could also be cheeky, rowdy – although no match for their dwarven counterparts – and have fun. Sadrondor taught her to fish and to hunt with a bow – something that Thorin had refused, although he had taught her how to wield axe and sword, which in itself was unusual for a dwarven princess. And she grew both in skill and in confidence.

Then one night Sadrondor had taken her to walk along the beach. Their bare feet had left prints in the warm wet sand as they stood looking at the light of the moon bouncing off the waves rolling in. It had been a mesmerising sight, one she had never seen before and never since. There he had bent down and pressed a soft kiss on her lips, telling her he loved her.

She still is unsure which bit had startled her the most - the kiss or the love confession. What did he mean by that? Dwarves only proclaimed their love for another if they were soulmates, which was rare at the best of times during their mortal lives and in any case could never exist outside the dwarrow clans. Aside from the blessing of sanumùradûn dwarves courted freely without commitment, with the purpose of either pleasure or reproduction. It was not an expression of love as other races spoke of it.

“You cannot,” she had said, turning away, trembling. The kiss had confused her also. It had felt tender, warm, different to any kiss she had had before. “You cannot love me. Never has an elf been with a dwarrowdam. It would be an abomination!”

But Sadrondor had laughed softly at her and pulled her in his arms. "Lady Dis, our races may not always see eye to eye. But in our long history there have been many strong alliances. Do you honestly think there has never before been a romance between our people?” He had softly stroked her long braid and repeated the kiss, this time longer. And the dwarven princess had known that from that moment her heart had been lost.

Their romance had been brief. Dis knew she had to return to her brother’s court soon; she had already been away for longer than agreed. And she had felt a deep sadness at the thought of leaving the elflord, whom she had grown so fond of over the months she had spent in Thafar'fundsilfînh, behind, knowing full well that he could never return to the dwarven fortress in Khagolabbad with her.

On the final night of her stay Sadrondor had invited her for a meal in his chambers. She still remembers the flutters that had played in her stomach. She had never felt anything like it before. It was not the embers of lust she felt during the festivals back home . It was not even like the connection she had felt with Fili’s father; a dwarf of fine standing and one she had courted for months before her season started.

She had never known a joining like it before or since. Her own people were passionate, hot-blooded lovers, bucks and dams alike. But the elflord had been so very gentle with her that she had felt like she was floating on a cloud. He had taken good care of her too, putting her pleasure before his own as they had made love – real love! she had felt sure it was! – until early in the morning.

Tears had brimmed in her eyes as they had said their farewells the following day, not knowing if they would ever meet again.

Little did she know that the elflord had seeded new life inside her. She had not even known she was in season and had never expected to be so soon after her eldest. It could take over ten years for a dwarrowdam to come into season again after her first child. So when the signs of her condition had started shortly after her return to Khagolabbad she had felt confused. She had not lain with anyone since Sadrondor but surely she could not have conceived from their joining? He was of another race, she had not even thought that a child would be possible from such a joining.

But as her belly filled she knew there could be no doubt in her heart. The babe grew just like Fili had grown. And as it did her anxiety grew also. What if her child looked like an elf? Would her treason be there plain for all to see? Thorin would surely disown the child if he found out about his father. So when he had asked who had sired the child inside her she had lied and told him he was one of the dwarrow lords from the Iron Mountains who had stayed with them for a while. Thorin had raised an eyebrow at her choice, but ultimately had accepted that the dwarf had been of sufficient ranking and had smiled that a child from a lord of Dain’s court would strengthen their alliances with the far-away faction. All Dis could hope for was that her path with the dwarrow lord would not cross again, at least not in Thorin’s presence, for him to deny the claim.

When Kili was born she had sighed a breath of relief to find that he looked just like any other dwarrow babe. The only physical attribute that reminded her so starkly of his father were his deep dark brown eyes, when the other heirs of the line of Durin all had varying shades of blue. And only as the years passed were there very subtle indications of his true heritage, that she picked up on only as she knew the truth; his slow to grow beard, his height – although Thorin too was a tall dwarf, so such posed little concern – and his remarkable skill with the longbow, being able to shoot and kill from a much greater distance than even his uncle could. But none of these things screamed out the terrible truth; that her son was a halfling, son of the enemy. And as Kili matured she began to relax, believing that her treason could be forgotten and that her child would not have to suffer for her sin.

As the years passed and Kili grew from a wild and adventurous child into a stubborn and mischievous young buck, she could see her own blood run through him as she saw her brother’s younger self reflected in him; his fire, his stubbornness and his mischief. But she equally she saw his paternal lineage in him, his eagerness to run through the forests and climb every tree on his path, his thirst for knowledge even though he lacked the patience to be taught it inside a classroom, instead preferring practical lessons.

She never stopped longing for Sadrondor. Once she had written a letter to her elvish lover, shortly after Kili's birth, but had prayed him not to contact them in return, so afraid was she that her secret would be found out. She needed to protect her son first and foremost, his reputation and his birth right as third in line to the throne. Such was her duty until he came of age.

As the years passed she fulfilled her duty to honour Mahal as she lay with the finest bucks, now no longer to bring forth a child as her fertility ceased, but to enjoy the pleasures that the Lord had granted them in return for their hard work. But always in her mind was that one night of passion with her secret lover and she held onto the dream that one day they would meet again and she could introduce him to his son.

That dream was crushed when one dark day many years ago now she received a sealed scroll. She instantly knew that the scroll had not come from dwarvish hands and her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she broke the seal. After she had read the letter she had run to the abandoned chambers deep inside the belly of the mountain to wail out her heartbreak about her lover’s demise. He had perished far away beyond the plains of Dunland on the edge of Rohan.  The exact nature of his mission had not been revealed in the message, but from what she understood he had died a heroes death. Yet she could never openly mourn his death and to this day that heartache is still seated deep inside her broken heart, knowing that she would never see him again – not even in the afterlife, not until the Final Battle would see them each return to Arda – and that he would never meet his beautiful son.

She is so wrapped up in her thoughts and memories that she only realises that they have reached the gates of Thafar'fundsilfînh when her pony comes to a halt behind that of her guard. She takes a deep breath as she looks up at the tall gate and then at the elvish guards on either side, knowing that within a few hours she has to face her son and whatever emotions that will bring with it.

***

“My _mother_ is here?!” Kili repeats incredulously. He has never known Dis to leave Thorin’s Halls. None of the dams do. He had never really questioned why, it was just the way things were. To be honest not many of the dwarves left the safety of the mountains full stop, unless it was out of necessity to earn a living by selling wares to the human settlements or to visit kin at the Southern Mountains or rarely in the Iron Mountains.  “Why?!”

The elvish messenger bows apologetically. “I do not know, my lord. You are requested to meet her at North Haven.”

Kili nods and watches the elfling leave as his forehead wrinkles into a frown. He really wishes things were not so terribly awkward between him and Skirvir right now as he could really do with talking to someone. He feels confused and also worried. If he is ordered to come back home, why has Thorin not sent a messenger? Or even Fili? He feels his heart pound in his chest as he churns over all the possible reasons why his mother would have come all that way to speak to him. Has something happened to Fili? It is the only possible reason he can think of that would justify such a visit and he feels sick at the thought of it as he races towards his guard’s chamber next door and bangs on the door.

Skirvir takes his time to answer. He has not yet forgiven his prince for the embarrassment he had caused him. “Yes, my lord?” he answers politely but coolly.

“Skirvir, my mother has arrived in Thafar'fundsilfînh. Find Vrar. We are travelling to the Northern Haven right now.”

Despite doing his best to come across as cool and professional as possible even the broad dwarf is startled by the announcement that the Princess has come to the elvish town. And he quickly nods to his lordship and runs to find their travel companion.

***

“ _’Amad_ ?” Kili pants as he flies through the door to the private chamber he has been led to by the elvish messenger.

Dis turns around and smiles at her son. Immediately she notices he has changed. He is still as untamed as ever as he burst in through the door without knocking. But he looks so much more mature and world-wise than the naïve dwarf that had been sent away by his uncle nearly four months ago. She opens her arms and wraps them tight around her son as he falls into her arms, resting her head against his chest as he now towers over her. For that brief moment all there is in the world is the comforting embrace of a mother and her son.

But then Kili pulls away and puts his hands on his mother’s shoulders, looking at her with a serious frown across his face that she has never seen before. “Why are you here, ‘amad? Is Fili alright?”

Dis is momentarily confused by the second question. “Fili? Yes, yes he is absolutely fine, do not worry about your brother,” she tries to give Kili a reassuring smile.

“Then why?” Kili presses, seeing something in her eyes that makes the blood in his veins run cold. Before his mother has a chance to reply realisation dawns on him. “Thorin!” he gasps. “It is Thorin!”

Dis grasps his hands, squeezing them as she speaks, “Kili, Thorin has fallen ill.”

Kili feels his legs give way. Dwarves do not _fall ill_ like the men of the valley do. They do not suffer with colds or flu or other such ailments. “What sort of ill?” he asks, feeling his whole body starting to tremble.

Dis guides her son to one of the chairs, forcing him to sit down before he falls over. “We are not sure,” she answers honestly.

“What do you mean?!” Kili snaps. “How can you not be sure? What ails him?!”

Dis takes a seat next to her son and grabs his hands again. “First we knew he started to have delusions. He … he thought Fili was you.” Kili frowns, but his mother’s warning look tells him not to interrupt whilst she explains. “Then he began to have blackouts. During the last Council meeting he …” she looks at the blind wall, looking for words that will explain but not frighten Kili, but not succeeding.

“He what?!” Kili urges her on as she fails to continue.

“He collapsed. He fell to the floor and began shaking.”

“Oh Mahal,” Kili gasps.

“He came round,” she quickly proceeds. "Oin checked him over, but he could not find what ails him other than that he is tired. He has worried about you, Kili,” she throws him a half-smile.

Kili feels himself flush as he realises he never thought about that. He had missed Thorin like crazy, but he had maintained the thought that Thorin was glad he was out from under his feet. Now he feels guilty that he may have caused his lover undue stress due to his prolonged absence. “I am sorry,” he whispers.

But his mother runs a hand through his scruffy hair. “It is not your fault, little raven,” she smiles.

“There is more,” Kili reads into the silence that follows.

“Aye,” Dis nods regretfully. “During the opening feast of _Ghuregbuzramerag_ Thorin had a heated exchange with Gorm.”

“Gorm?!” Kili exclaims in surprise. He knows his uncle has no love for the highpriest – he finds him arrogant and the priest frequently oversteps the boundaries of his authority – but Gorm does hold a very influential position in their society and Thorin knows this and he knows how to play the political game. He feels a dread fill him up as he watches his mother’s pained expression. “What happened?”

“He blacked out again, Kili,” she says softly, massaging his hands in hers. “And since then …” she takes a swallow, hitched breath, “he has not awoken.”

“But _Ghuregbuzramerag_ was over two weeks ago!” Kili gasps, feeling his chest contract as his anxiety rises.

“It was,” Dis says softly.

“He’s dead!” Kili sobs.

And Dis grabs him in his arms. “No, Kili, no he is alive! I promise you he was alive when I left his Halls. His eyes are open, he is breathing. But he does not respond. It is as if he is asleep, dreaming with open eyes, and no-one can awake him. That is why I am here, Kili. You are _murbelûnhu_. You must come back. Perhaps when he hears your voice …” _She withholds to add that if Thorin does not wake up he at least needs to be there to say goodbye._

“I can’t …” Kili shakes his head. “I cannot go back to Thorin.”

Dis looks at him in confusion. “Why not?”

Kili can feel himself flare. “You full well know why not!” he finds himself raising his voice at this mother for the first time in his life. “You!” he points his finger at her as he jumps to his feet. “You have lied to me all my life! You have lied to all of us, including Thorin! How can I face him now? How can I be _murbelûnhu_ when the blood of the enemy runs through my veins?! How could you have done that, mother? How could you have sold your honour like that?!”

Dis can feel he heart shatter as she watches her son recoil from her in horror. “Kili, please …” she tries.

“How could you not tell me?!” Kili finds himself shouting now. “Don’t you think I had a right to know?!”

“Yes,” his mother utters. “Yes, you did. I am sorry, Kili. I did not know how to. I tried to protect you. If Thorin found out …”

“If Thorin _finds_ out he will have me exiled! If not executed!”

“No! No, he would not do that now,” Dis says, feeling quite sure. “I feared when you were but a cosset. But Kili, he loves you. He has accepted you as his One against all rules and laws.” She sighs. “And anyway, he needs not know.”

Kili snorts. “So he condemns me to a life without love. And you condemn me to a life of secret sin.” He can feel himself numb under the weight of all of it. “And what is there left for me to decide, ‘amad?”

She looks at him with a deep sadness. “I am sorry, Kili. But your father was a good man. He was an elf, yes, but a good man.”

“Was?” Kili stills. “So that bit is true? My father is dead?”

Dis nods slowly. “I am afraid so, my child.”

Kili can feel the anger drain from him as he watches the hurt in his mother’s face as a single tear rolls across her cheek. He has never seen his mother cry before and it throws him off balance. He sits himself back down again and throws his arm around her shoulders. “How? I thought elves were immortal?”

“He died an honourable death,” Dis says, wiping the tear from her face. “I do not know the details, I was not able to communicate with Lord Nowë. But he died a warrior’s death.”

Kili feels the sadness wash over him. So many emotions! First he finds out that the dwarf he had believed all these years to be his dead father was not his father at all. Then he had tried to come to terms with the fact that his real father was in fact an elf. Only to learn that he too has passed away. “So I will never even know him,” he realises with a jolt. “Not even in Mahal’s Halls.”

Dis shakes her head and Kili can see how much his mother cared for this elflord.

“What was his name?”

“Sadrondor. It means _faithful brother,”_ she smiles softly.

His curiosity to know more about his father is replacing his hurt and anguish as the questions spill from his lips, “What was he like? What did he look like? How did you meet? Did Thorin know him?”

“He did not,” Dis shakes her head. And then she begins to tell her son all she knows and remembers about his father. And Kili listens with growing interest and awe how he was born from a love affair so reminiscent of his own forbidden love for Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'adad = father  
> 'amad = mother


	5. Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has taken me a while to update so today you get two for the price of one :D

Kili burst through the door throws himself onto the bed, before anyone has a chance to stop him. Dwalin, who is on watch duty, does not need to be told as he quickly rises to his feet. "I will be just outside if you need me," he says quietly before he follows Dis back out of the room and closes the door behind him. He looks at Dis with great concerns painted across his brow. No words need be spoken between them. They both know that this is their last and only hope. If Kili cannot wake Thorin from his stupor then who can?

"Thorin!" Kili sobs as he wraps his arms around his beloved. "Thorin, what's happened to you?! Wake up! Please wake up!" he buries his face in Thorin's thick hair, wrapping his fingers around the braids like he used to when he was a cosset and Thorin used to carry him around everywhere, as he lets his tears run into Thorin's tunic.

He freezes as he can suddenly feel Thorin's chest rise up as his lover takes a deep intake of breath.

"Thorin?" Kili head snaps up and he stares into his lover's face, hopeful. But Thorin looks as still as he did before, his eyes still staring blankly, his lips unmoving. "Oh Thorin, my love." He cups Thorin's cheeks in the palm of his hand, feeling the soft brush of his beard. "I am so sorry."

"Why?"

It is barely more than a rasped breath, but Kili knows he's heard it.

"You're there! Oh my love, please look at me!"

More silence, but Kili knows now that Thorin is just below the surface, like an otter trying to claw his way out of a frozen lake. He just needs to find a way to break through the ice.

Well, if there is one thing he's learnt from his uncle over the years it is not to go soft. He straddles his lover and grabs his face in both his hands. “Damn it, Thorin, wake up!” he growls. “I know you are there! Don’t you dare leave me! I came back for you! Now come back to me!”

He watches Thorin’s face carefully, looking out for even the smallest of changes. When nothing seems to happen and he is just about to collapse back onto him in his desperation but suddenly there is a minor shift in his dilated pupils as they appear to try and focus.

“Yes, Thorin!” he gasps encouragingly. “That is it, my love. Find your way back to me. I am here!” He presses a gentle but warm kiss on Thorin’s lips. “I am here and I love you!”

“Love you … too …”

He can see the lips moving now. Ever so slightly, like a statue cracking open and revealing a living form underneath. He can see Thorin’s eyes search for him now, confused but determined. And he clasps his mouth back onto Thorin’s, wishing to kiss life back into every cell of his body.

Every movement is tantalisingly slow. Thorin has become so weak from the weeks of frozen bed-rest. He can hear Kili, but he sounds so far away. He can see his outline, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot focus his vision. But then he feels that familiar, soft warm on his lips. A kiss of life. He can only compare the feeling like rays of sun falling onto a block of ice and melting away the cold hard surface to reveal whatever has been hidden underneath, preserved in its icy tomb. And as Kili’s kiss deepens his senses slowly return to him. Taste. Scent. Touch. It takes an incredible amount of effort, as if his arms are weighed down by the weight of the mountain itself. But he is determined and he fights on against his own body’s unwillingness to return to all the hurt and the worries and the anger that have sent him into this state in the first place hidden inside his own quiet peace, where no-one can reach him.

Kili shudders as he feels the soft brush of hands along his side. Tears run down his face and over Thorin’s as he claws onto every small sign of life, as if he is dragging Thorin back out of a ravine with but the thinnest and most fragile of ropes, scared that if he pulls too hard, if he is too hasty, that the rope will snap and Thorin will be sent tumbling into a darkness from which he will never awake.

“Kili.”

This time the sound is more than just a breath. Two clearly defined syllables that he has heard spoken so many times over the years.

“Yes, Thorin! Yes, it is me!” He rests himself down on top of his love, burying his face against his neck as his hand searches for Thorin’s. He threads his fingers through his, feeling that large hand completely envelop his own. And they lay like this for what seems an eternity, just listening to each other’s breathing and beating of hearts – signs of life and signs of love.

A shiver runs down Kili’s spine as Thorin's hand moves to stroke through his hair. And slowly, ever so slowly, his frozen body begins to thaw as he shift slightly and then turns to face Kili. “You are back,” he finally states, his voice still croaky from lack of use, but now recognisable as his own. A faint smile curls around his lips as he strokes his hand across Kili’s face, running his thumb over those rosy lips. “My love, you came back to me.”

Kili beams and his lips brush Thorin’s again. “Of course I came back. I love you. I will always love you! I could never love another! But I … I did not think you wanted me back. That it would be too hard ...”

A sadness flickers through Thorin’s eyes, but he holds Kili’s gaze. “I was wrong,” he sighs. “I wanted to do the right thing. For you. But now I know, Kili. You belong to me.” This time he initiates the kiss as he slowly pulls Kili in closer, massaging those soft lips with his own chapped ones.

“And you to me,” Kili smiles, running his hands down his lover’s face. He presses one more lingering kiss on those lips that he has craved for so many months, before he says softly, “I must tell ma and Fili. They have been so worried about you, Thorin.”

Thorin grasps his hand before he can turn away. “In a moment,” he whispers softly. He knows that as soon as everyone knows that he is back amongst the living there will be a hype of activity again. “I just want a moment with you, my love,” he smiles, pulling Kili back close, wrapping his tired limbs around his nephew. “You have changed,” he smiles, pressing soft kisses in Kili’s hair. “You seem so much older than when you were last here.”

Kili chuckles. “As do you.” He plays with the new strands of white that have appeared in Thorin’s raven black hair since he had left. “But my heart is still the same,” he states firmly. “No matter how far away you send me, uncle. To the end of world you may. My heart still belongs to you. Forever.”

“I know,” Thorin nods with a warmth inside his chest. “And mine to you.”

“There are so many things I have learnt, _âzyungâluh!_ ” Kili says enthusiastically. “About Durin and Lofn and the ancient runes …”

“All in good time,” Thorin interrupts him gently and seeks his lips again, slowly searching that warm heat with his tongue as they pull closer and pick up where their relationship had been put on hold so many months ago.

Kili lets his mouth be used for more pleasurable activities than talk as he gives in to Thorin’s need for comfort and a confirmation of their love. He only realises quite how much he had missed the physical side of their love as Thorin stirs all those wonderful feelings inside of him again, of passion and desire. He can feel himself react immediately to the teasing of his tongue.

“I have missed this,” Thorin sighs as he pulls back a little to allow Kili his breath.

“Me too,” Kili grins. He wants more, he wants to feel every little bit of Thorin as close as he can possible have him, but he is afraid to be too forward. The last time they were together Thorin had told him they could never kiss again. He does not want to push his luck, does not want to push the boundaries that are already wavering again.

But Thorin knows him better than anyone as his hand slowly slides down his body, teasing over his hip until he brushes against the growing bulge in his breeches. “You long for me still,” he smiles.

And Kili pushes him back onto his back and showers him in heated kisses as he grinds his crotch down slowly against Thorin’s. “Of course I do!” he exclaims. “Every moment of every day and night!”

“Prove it,” Thorin smirks, taking Kili by surprise.

“You … you mean … Are you sure? You had said … And I don’t want to hurt …”

“Prove it!” Thorin growls with a sudden passion.

Kili is about to agree, driven by his desire, but then changes his mind. “No,” he states.

Thorin swallows thickly, having not expected that reply. “No? I … I see…” He makes to turn away his gaze. He should not be surprised, he had sent Kili away, hurt his feelings. It will take time to repair things between them.

“I think you should prove it,” Kili says defiantly, crossing his arms. “I never gave you any cause to doubt my love for you. You were the one to deny me, to tell me that we could not be together and to send me away. So _you_ prove it!”

Thorin stares at his younger lover in surprise and then begins to softly chuckle. “You demand this of me?”

“I do,” Kili states confidently, a cheeky grin appearing around his lips.

But Thorin can feel himself blush. “I want to … But I am not sure I can,” he acknowledges with embarrassment. His body does not yet seem to respond to all the right signals and he can barely lift up his arms let alone bare the weight of his entire body on them.

Kili cocks his head and strokes his hand across Thorin’s beard and across his lips. He knows Dwalin is keeping guard at the door so they should be safe to do this. “We can make it work,” he says sweetly. “You stay as you are.” And slowly he begins to pull off his tunic. Thorin just watches Kili, quietly, lovingly as he strips himself naked. He traces his thick fingers slowly over Kili’s skin, his chest, his nipples, down to his belly button, until he wraps his hand gently around his prick. Kili groans under the touch that he thought he may never feel again.

“You are so beautiful,” Thorin smiles as he begins to run his hand up and down along his length, massaging him into an aching hardness. “Even more beautiful than I remembered you in my dreams.”

His body is slow to react, but Kili is patient with him. He pulls up Thorin’s nightgown and takes over from his touch as he pulls his semi-hardness against his own cock, rubbing them together in a steadfast rhythm.  “Does this feel nice?” he whispers softly.

“Yes,” Thorin answers huskily. He tries not to get frustrated with his inability to just take Kili as he wants to, knowing that it will make the process even slower. Instead he focuses his attention on the lovely feeling of Kili’s hand massaging his slowly growing erection as he runs his own hands over Kili’s firm thighs until he is hard enough for Kili’s liking.

“Will you prepare me?” Kili asks, a little flustered. They have only done this once before and although he remembers well how good it had felt the last time, he cannot help those little nervous flutters as he thinks about being stretched like that again.

“Of course,” Thorin smiles and he nods towards the bedside dresser. Kili helps himself to the little flacon of oil Thorin had stored there and returns to straddle his uncle, but this time high up his chest as he raised himself up. Thorin grins a cheeky grin at him as he presents his sleek cock to his face. He lets Kili slick up his fingers before he slowly grabs hold of Kili’s buttocks and begins to massage them, running his fingers tenderly over the crease between them. “Guide yourself,” he orders Kili as he opens wide for him.

Kili’s breath jumps as his cock twitches. Thorin had briefly kissed and licked him there before but never really taken him deep into his mouth. Thorin pulls him in closer as Kili grabs hold of his dick and presses it against Thorin’s tongue, shuddering against the soft warmth as Thorin wraps his lips around him. “Oh my,” he gasps as he temporarily closes his eyes and just concentrates on his lover’s tongue working slow circles around his tip. He opens him against when Thorin starts to pull him in by his hips in a steady rhythm, which has soon takes over, riding himself ever to slowly into Thorin’s mouth. “This feels so good, my love,” he sighs. These are all such delicious new sensations and he grasps hold of Thorin’s thick braids as he continues to push his hips back and forth.

As Kili finds a rhythm that works for the both of them, Thorin begins to play with his young lover’s backside, massaging his buttocks more firmly and pulling them slowly apart as he teases over the rumpled skin between them. He delights in the moans and hisses that Kili utters as he presses against his entrance. He moves his hand now, to access Kili from underneath, fondling his tight sack before he runs his thick oily finger up his taint and over his pucker again.

“Enter me,” Kili groans under the teasing hand. “Please.”

Thorin takes his cock a little deeper into his mouth, enveloping most of his length now with that delicious heat as he simultaneously exerts pressure onto his folds and slides the tip of his finger inside. Kili whines softly as all those little nerve endings inside him are rubbed and touched and he leaks his excitement onto Thorin’s tongue. He pushes back against that finger, wanting to feel more.  “Please,” he begs shamelessly. “This has been too long, Thorin, don’t tease me.”

Thorin lets him drop from his mouth as he kisses his abdomen and begins to prod him with more vigour. “You delicious dwarf,” he sighs deeply as Kili wriggles around on his finger, his cock bouncing proudly on each thrust of his fingers. He watches Kili’s expression as he slowly adds a second finger, stretching his lovely body a little further. “You open up beautifully,” he encourages. His own cock is finally playing the game and he gives Kili a questioning look.

“I am ready,” Kili smiles and he takes the flask of oil again.

Thorin makes attempt to change positions as he removes his fingers from Kili’s heat, but Kili pushes him back against the pillows. “Stay,” he smiles and leans forward to kiss him softly. “You guide me.”

“Alright,” Thorin nods, feeling the desire flutter through him.

Kili shuffles himself down his body and reaches for his firm prick, lubricating him in sure, delicious strokes. He groans softly as Kili prepares him and then pushes his cockhead against his entrance. “Prove it to me,” he smiles again and Thorin nods and he tilts his pelvis and begins to push against Kili’s bum.

He draws in a sharp breath as Thorin begins to slowly stretch him open, but reminds himself to relax into the feeling as he pushes back against the penetrating force, keeping his eyes trained on his lover’s beautiful blue eyes sparkling back at him. “I love you,” he whispers as Thorin slides deeper into him, feeling him rub against his sensitive inner walls.

“My Kili,” Thorin pants as he is gripped tightly by Kili’s strong muscles and pleasure floods his body like a life force. “ _Men lananubukhs zu.”_

Kili can feel a pure happiness explode inside his chest at Thorin’s declaration of love. He never thought he would hear him say those words again to him. He certainly never thought they would ever be doing this again! He begins to rock his hips back and forth, slowly at first but Thorin encourages him to speed up with his large hands guiding his thighs.

“This is a very nice position,” Thorin grins as he watches Kili wriggle around his shaft, seeking to rub himself in the places that give him most pleasure.

“It is!” Kili is quick to agree and he yelps as Thorin manages to probe his prostate on the next upwards thrust. “Oh yes, just there,” he gasps and then flushes deeply from his neck and chest upwards as he can feel himself come undone without so much as touching himself.

Thorin is surprised as he watches Kili flood him his with hot seed when he next rolls his hips. Even more surprised is he by the delightful noises his keen lover utters as he does so which sends his own arousal blazing like a forge.

Kili slumps forward, pressing his hands flat on his chest as he thrusts himself down with increased energy. “Thorin, come,” he groans as he digs his fingernails into his lover’s chest, massaging his sticky seed into his skin.

He can feel the muscles in Kili’s body contract around his hardness. For a moment he worries he might not have to strength yet to reach his peak, but then Kili shift and thrusts himself down again and effortlessly pulls his orgasm from him. His voice drops into a deep primal sound as he fills Kili up. He pulls Kili forward and against his chest and seeks his mouth as his body tightens and then fully relaxes.

The lie joint together for a short while, as the heat pulses between them, until Thorin softens and slips from between Kili’s cheeks. Kili groans softly at the sensation and again as he feels the result of Thorin’s lovemaking seep down his crease.

“Enough proof?” Thorin sighs.

Slowly he rolls off his lover and cuddles up close into his embrace. “I don’t know,” Kili says, a little unsure. “What does this mean, Thorin? For us?”

Thorin grabs his face firmly between his large hands and looks deep into his eyes. “It means that I have been a fool to hurt you. And I promise you I will never deny you again.”

 _Even if you knew I were a halfling?_ Kili thinks to himself but he does not say it. One step at a time. And on that note … “I suppose I should get dressed and let the others know you are on the mend.”

Thorin nods reluctantly, not wishing to let Kili go just yet but knowing he has a responsibility to his people. He pulls down his nightgown and lets Kili drape the fur blankets back over him again.

“You need to rest some more,” Kili says sternly. “Too much activity for you already. You are not to leave this room until Oin has said you can.”

“Yes, _Zebdarê_ ,” Thorin sniggers at Kili exerting his authority over him. But he knows his nephew is right and he is in no state to be walking around just yet.

***

“Thorin!” Dwalin is the first to enter the room after Kili has explained to him that he has awoken. “Thank Mahal’s beard. I knew Kili would have the touch.” He looks closely at his friend’s face which still has the blushed remnants of Kili’s treatment in them. “I see,” he grins. “Well, if that is the remedy it took then Oin had no chance.”

And Thorin finds himself laughing out loud along with his friend.

“It is good to have you back, _nadad hurmul_ ,” Dwalin clasps Thorin’s forearms and gently pushes his forehead against that of his friend. “No more silly business, from you. At least now you know you cannot deny Mahal’s blessing.”

“No,” Thorin agrees. “And so I will no more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> men lananubukhs zu = I love you  
> nadaduh hurmul = my honourable brother. Like a brother in arms rather than a blood brother.


	6. Welcome Home

Kili knocks on the door to the chambers he shares with his brother and slowly pushes the door open. “Fee? Are you there?”

His brother jumps up from polishing his swords. He had been deep in thought, worried about the upcoming Council meeting – the first one he would have to chair what with Thorin still incapacitated, and his stomach is churning at the thought. “Kee? Oh thank Mahal the Maker, you are back!!” He jumps to his feet, throwing the swords onto the bed, and flies around his brother’s neck. “I had no idea you would be back today!”

“We travelled so fast, there was no point sending a messenger ahead,” Kili explains to his brother as he tightens his grip around him. “Good to be back,” he breaths in the familiar scent of his brother which makes him feel instantly calm and comforted.

“Mum okay?” Fili asks as he pulls back and looks at his brother.

Kili nods, “She’s fine. She’s with Thorin now.”

“Is … is Thorin …?” They had all pinned all their hopes on Kili being able to do something – anything! – for the king and he is scared to hear the answer.

But Kili beams. “He is awake. Better than that …” he grins a cheeky grin.

Fili can see the heated blush in his brother’s face and his own features shift instantly from concern to relief to disbelief. “You didn’t! By my beard, Kili, the first thing you did!”

His brunet brother shrugs. “It had been four months!” he tries to defend himself.

Next thing he knows he lies on his back on the floor, with his brother on top. “What the …!”

His outcry is silenced as Fili promptly punches him in the face. “That! …” he growls at his younger brother, “… is for not returning when you should have.” Another blow quickly follows the first. “And _that_ is for screwing Thorin before even seeing me when I have spent months denying myself such pleasure for your sake!”

Kili’s hand shoots to his bleeding nose as he stares shocked and open-mouthed at his brother.

“I have been worried sick!” Fili continues to rant. “About you, about Thorin! Have you any idea what I have been through here whilst you have been gallivanting with the elves? You stupid son of an orc!”

Kili stares at his brother and then begins to laugh at Fili’s sour face. “I am sorry, Fee, I probably deserved that,” he smirks as he pushes his brother off him and pulls out his kerchief to wipe away the blood. “Damn, you have a mean punch on you!”

Fili huffs, pulling up his knees as he watches Kili tidy himself up. “Missed you,” he growls softly.

“Yeah looks it,” Kili sneers. “So what is this about you denying yourself pleasure anyway, big bro? That hardly sounds like the conquering crown prince I left behind so many months ago! Well, I am not even sorry,” he brushes himself off and gets to his feet. “I think some abstinence has probably done you good, _khuzd malaz!_ ” he teases.

“ _Diù bhoduh!”_ Fili growls at his brother.

Kili spits in laughter. “Looks like you already have someone lined up for that!” he chuckles. “So, come on then. Spill! Who else should I be apologising too?”

His watches his older brother turn a bright shade of red as he stares at the floor.

“Is it that bad?” Kili cocks his head. “Who is this dwarf who turns my sweet brother into such a violent beast or a blushing virgin?”

“ _Dùn 'agulhizu!”_ Fili launches himself at his brother again, but he appears to have forgotten Kili’s speed in the past few months and Kili deftly moves out of his line of fire, sending Fili crashing against the wall.

“Like I was saying!” he laughs, pinning Fili onto his back. “So? Tell me!” He brings his face close to his brother’s. You want me to play guess, do you? Alright then, buck or dam?”

“Buck,” Fili mumbles as he refuses to look at his brother.

Kili screws up his face for a moment as he considers his options. “Older?”

“Yes.”

“ _Much_ older?” Kili says in a teasing tone as he runs his fingers over his brother’s beautiful braids.

“Let’s just say as old as the dwarf you are fucking,” Fili snarls viciously at him, but then a cheeky smile appears around his lips.

“Ooooh, that’s interesting!” Kili grins as he keeps Fili pinned under his backside as he has straddled his chest. He puts his forefinger against his stubbled chin in a pertinent gesture of being in deep thought. “Balin!” he cries out in an obvious tease.

Fili chokes on his laughter. “No, but you are hot as dragon fire.”

Kili’s eyes grow wide. “By the Valar, Dwalin! You are serious!” he utters as Fili’s wide grin betrays him instantly. “Well, I be damned, brother, a fine choice indeed!”

“You … you mean it?” Fili asks a little nervously. He has never felt like he needed his brother's sanction before but for some reason this time he really wants to hear that Kili approves of his choice. “It is more than just a one off … Not that we have yet … Because of you!!”

“Why in Mahal’s name did you wait for me?” Kili asks, pulling his brother up again.

“Because we both felt guilty. Seeing you and Thorin in so much pain … And then Thorin fell so ill. Is he really going to be alright, Kee?”

“I think so. He is weak, still, but even bed bound his heart beats strong! He will fight back, Fee. And I love it that you are courting Dwalin!” he grins. “My dark warg of a brother! I bet he will be a fine specimen between the sheets,” he winks.

“ _Khuzd muzumaz zu!”_ Fili pretends to offended by his brother’s crudeness, but truth be told his brother may be rougher in the tongue and appearance than Fili, his devotion to Thorin tells of his pure heart. “I will let you know,” he finishes the conversation with a wink as he puts away his weapons. “First I will go and see Thorin.” He pulls his brother back into an embrace. “I did really miss you, Kee,” he whispers.

“And me you,” Kili says earnestly. “I am sorry, I did not know of the things going on or I would not have stayed away.”

“I know. Just glad you are back now. There is much we have to catch up on.”

“That there is,” Kili agrees.

***

That evening Dis and her sons have dinner in Thorin’s private chamber. For the first time in weeks he is sat up, wrapped up in his thick fur mantle in front of the fire. His skin looks almost translucent as it is so pale and his hand shakes ever so slightly as he lifts up his goblet. But considering that mere hours ago they were all worried he might never wake up it is a miracle indeed that he is sat here with them.

Kili and Fili are taking it in turns to bring their elders and each other up to speed. Fili talks informally about the happenings in Thorin’s Halls, of any matters of importance, the most prominent one of which appears to be the fact that there is currently no representative from the Southern Mountains at court as Suthri had not sent a replacement for Svior.

“When did Svior leave?” Thorin says softly, his voice still a little wavering from disuse.

“It was the day after you fell ill at the Council Meeting, uncle,” Fili responds. “It’s nigh a month hence now.”

Thorin exchanges a glance with his sister. “Balin spoke to me, the night before the festival. He had concerns about Lord Suthri, as do I. Has anything else been said or heard?” Dis shakes her head. “Kili,” he turns his attention to his youngest nephew, “when you were at court in Khagolabbad Faraku, was there anything that concerned you? I know you could not speak freely in your reports to me.”

Kili looks in his beloved’s beautiful grey-blue eyes. “I felt that Lord Suthri and his advisors do not have the respect for the House of Durin that they should. I thought perhaps it was just me, uncle, because I am barely of age. But now in the context of with Fee is saying, perhaps this feeling mines deeper than I first thought.”

“Then speak freely now, Kili,” Thorin orders. “What matters concerned you during your station there.”

“It was never openly said, Thorin, but we all felt like the Farakûnh bucks feel superior to their kin here in the North. They live by very strict rules which govern every bit of their lives. And they believe those rules are the true laws of Durin. I have heard it spoken in whispers when they did not know I was listening. They say that the House of Durin began to lose its way when King Thror fell ill to the gold sickness. And that after the fall of Azsâlul'abad the old laws were forgotten and misinterpreted.” He looks closely at his kin. “This is just my personal feeling, Thorin, you must realise this. But I felt that they are stirring up a sense of fear amongst your people in the Southern Mountains. That your rule and your decrees fall short of Durin’s law and thus displease our Lord Mahal the Maker. That you will bring his wrath upon us if the tide is not turned.”

Thorin’s eyes have shifted into a darkness as he listens to his nephew. “If I displease Mahal so,” he snarls, “then why did he bless me with _murbelûnê?_ ” he takes Kili’s hand and presses a kiss on it.

“You know Suthri is just stirring,” Dis watches the tenderness between her brother and son. “He had a dislike for our grandfather and he has never agreed with you. He is just looking for anything that puts you in a bad light. And Gorm is more than happy to provide the arrows to his bow.”

Thorin nods. It is as he had feared. Suthri had always questioned his interpretation of their laws, had warned him he was too lenient and that he did not see what was happening in the Blue Mountains, with his focus taken up by the desire to return to their homeland beyond the Misty Mountains. But he had always managed to placate the older lord by allowing him a certain amount of sovereignty  over the way he ruled the southern faction. But now that no longer appeared enough. And what with the noise coming from the Temple …

“What does he wish for?” Thorin growls low in his throat. “To see our fragile people tremble in fear under tyrannical control? Should I dictate my people on the length of their beard or they may face prison for insulting our Lord? Will he have me order our people how often they should recite their prayers or it may bring Mahal’s wrath down on us? Does he wish me to denounce the contribution of our dams to the rebuilding of our people because he considers them of less worth and flog my own sister for wishing to educate her community and ban her and her advisors from my Council?!”

“Thorin, please,” Kili hushes him, taking his hand. “You must not wind yourself up yet. You must rest still. We can talk about this again tomorrow.” He looks at his mother who nods in agreement. “I learnt to read the ancient runes,” he quickly changes the subject, concerned for Thorin’s health. “I have learnt much about the Ancient Scrolls during my time at Lord Nowë’s court.” He carefully looks at Thorin’s face, knowing he had disapproved of his decision to stay with the elflord. “There are some very interesting things in the old lore, Thorin. Things that we are now taught as original lore, but which were in fact changed in the late Second and early Third Age.”

“Such as?” Thorin asks, looking at his love with interest.

Kili hesitates for a moment. He had wanted to tell Thorin in private first. But then his mother and brother may as well hear it also. “Such as under Durin’s original law we would have been free to court, Thorin,” he says, slowly as to make his point clear. “That is was not forbidden for first and second generation blood relatives to court or even marry. In fact …” he looks to his brother first and then his mother, before looking back in Thorin and then he even lowers his voice, feeling still like a blasphemer even though he had read it himself, “… the old lore tells of Durin’s wife, laid in the stone with him.”

“What?!” Dis exclaims.

“Durin had no wife, he was laid to the stone alone,” Fili fills in.

“No,” Kili states firmly. “King Durin III made the Highpriest change the lore when the corruptions of the Rings of Power turned the clans against each other. He tried to strengthen the bonds by discouraging inter-family marriages and encouraging inter-clan courtships. But that is not the original lore. It says in the Ancient Scrolls that Mahal made fourteen dwarves, seven pairs. And that he made Durin and his wife Lofn out of a single stone, like a single womb. And as such he considered them brother and sister.”

A stunned, tense silence falls over the room. Kili smiles at his lover, feeling triumphant that had managed to find out the truth and a way to allow them to be together. But his moment of happiness is quickly wiped off the table, when Dis turns to him and says firmly, ”You can never repeat this to anyone.”

“What?” Kili utters. “What do you mean? It is the truth!”

“Says who?” Thorin agrees with his sister. “The elves?”

“No! Well, yes! But …”Kili can feel his cheeks begin to burn with annoyance. “It is the truth!” he repeats in frustration. “It says so in our Scrolls too!”

But Dis and Thorin both shake their heads.

“No-one can read the old scripts,” Dis says softly, seeing the heartbreak in her son’s eyes. “No-one but you and the elves of Thaforkûn. There is no-one to verify your story whose word the Temple will accept.”

“Your mother is right, Kee,” Thorin says, feeling defeated as he sees the pain in Kili’s face and he rubs his thumb over the back of Kili’s hand. “I believe you,” he tries to assure Kili. “But no-one else will.”

“But …” Kili argues, “… you cannot just dismiss this! It means that the Temple is wrong, Thorin! It means that  Mahal has chosen wisely to make us _murbelân_! You said you will not deny me anymore!” he can feel tears well up in his eyes. “Everything was supposed to be alright now!” he says with a sob.

“Kili, look at me,” Thorin says softly and he pushed his lover’s chin up. “I do not deny you. But your words are dangerous. They call into question the very foundations of our beliefs.  You are challenging the word of Mahal’s Highpriest and therefore Mahal himself. Without proof …”

“There is proof!” Kili panics, seeing all his elation that he had felt since he first learnt about the real lore, evaporate before him. “The Scrolls!”

“Kili,” his brother jumps in, “you are the only one who can read the scrolls. Of course you will say that this is truth as it allows you and Thorin to be together. You are not independent. You cannot be the one to say this, don’t you understand? You will be branded _khathághim!_ ”

Kili can’t stop the tears of desperation spills down his cheeks as he stares helplessly at his kin. “Then how …” he sobs.

“The only way would be for a priest of the Temple to read the Ancient Scrolls themselves,” Dis confirms his fears. “Only then will the Temple even consider the truth.”

“Then that is what we must do!” Kili urges.

“And who would we entrust with such a task, Kili?” Thorin asks softly. “Who within the Temple would be willing to travel to Thaforkûn, as you did, to uncover that which the Highpriest does not wish us to learn? Without risking both our hides?”

There is a moment of silence between the four of them as the brothers look at each other, as if they are reading each other’s mind. And simultaneously they state, “Ori!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> khuzd malaz = roughly translated as "loose dwarf" (lit. dwarf of pleasure origins)  
> Diù bhoduh = (explicit) suck my cock  
> Dùn 'agulhizu = shut your mouth  
> khuzd muzumaz zu = you rude dwarf! (lit. dwarf of rude origins, you)  
> khathághim = lit. provoker. One who challenges the word of a priest of Mahal which is a serious crime.  
> Khagolabbad Faraku = (Southern) Blue Mountains  
> 


	7. Lessons in Lovemaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin and Fili finally get to play :D

“Who is Ori?” Thorin asks, looking at his nephews.

“The Temple Scribe,” Fili explains.

“Dori’s youngest brother,” Dis adds. “You remember. You were at his fire ritual last autumn.”

Thorin slowly nods as he recalls the event. He can’t really picture the scholar, but he remembers now that he is distantly related to him. “And he can be trusted?”

“Definitely,” Kili smiles. “He already helped me to copy the old scrolls. He is honourable, uncle. And very clever. If we provide an escort then he should be able to travel to Thafar'fundsilfînh soon.”

Thorin screws up his face and Kili knows he is battling with himself about sending another of his kin to the elves. “Very well,” he says eventually, although there is a sharpness to his tone. “If that is what we must do. He will travel under the royal banner on business of the King.” Thorin turns to Kili, “You need to prepare the precise instructions. He is to spend as little time as possible with the elves. Only what is necessary to give the confirmation of what you have told us.”

Kili sighs and nods, avoiding his mother’s gaze. “Yes uncle. I will send an order to him to see me first thing tomorrow.”

When their table is cleared and the smoke of their pipes has evaporated, the brothers both rise to their feet to make their way back to their quarters.

“Kili, stay with me,” Thorin stops the brunet, grasping his arm with an unexpected urgency as if he may fall back into his abyss if Kili moves too far away from his side.

Kili looks from Thorin to Dis, unsure whether to honour Thorin’s request. He wants nothing more than to stay with him, but after their conversation just now …

“Brother, is that wise?” Dis says carefully. “The laws have not changed, we just spoke about this …”

“Kili will be my shield,” Thorin orders to all their surprise. “And Dwalin Fili’s.

The brothers exchange a surprised glance, but Kili soon beams. “That is perfect!” he exclaims. The king’s shield has the right to reside in the king’s adjacent chambers if there is any concern over his safety or well-being and has access to his chambers via a secret doorway to allow him to come to the sovereign’s immediate aid in case of a threat. He wonders why they had not thought of it before. But when he looks over at his mother he can see the concern clear in her features.

She grabs Thorin’s arm and pulls him to one side. “You play a dangerous game, _nadad,_ ” she hisses at him. “Wait till Ori is back. Why risk all now? How will you explain such a decision?”

“I think it is a wise decision,” Thorin shrugs his arm away. “Fili needs proper protection now that he has stood in for me when I have been indisposed, his heritage made plain for all to see. And I would trust no-one less but my own shield-brother to take care of that task. As for Kili, he needs to learn the role for when his brother takes the throne. He can be taught by me whilst we are in peacetime and the threat is low. There will be no challenges over my decision,” he states, thereby closing the conversation.

Kili can see his mother wishes to argue, but Thorin’s decision is perfectly reasonable, if somewhat unexpected and she knows she cannot overrule him. “You had better be right,” she snaps at him. “I want no more trouble for either of you.”

“It will be fine,” Kili smiles, trying to sooth his mother’s worries. “And I am sure Fili has no issue with Dwalin looking after him …” he winks.

Dis coughs to warn Kili he should not speak such in her presence and bids her kin a quick farewell, shortly followed by Fili who is bouncing on his toes as he makes his way to his chambers. Today has turned out to be a rather good day for him – Thorin is recovering, his brother is back and his lover gets to be at his side at all times.

When the others have left Kili turns to Thorin. “Thank you,” he smiles. “And thank you for agreeing to send Ori to Thaforkûn.”

Thorin snorts.  “It pains me greatly that our people should beg for our own lore at the feet of elves,” he grunts. He looks up at Kili’s pained face and sighs. “But if there is a small chance it would allow you to be at my side, then I will take it.”

Kili wraps his arms around Thorin’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder. “I love you,” he whispers softly, knowing how hard it is for Thorin to do this and that it says more than anything else how much he loves him in return.  And although he is dying to say it, he decides to keep his own secret to himself for a while longer. Maybe he will never tell Thorin, he thinks. Dis said he need not know. Perhaps that would be best. Now that he had come so close to losing Thorin, he will take his love as it is given to him.

***

“Some interesting news reached my ears today, _Zabad_ Suthri,” Horth smirks in satisfaction over what he had learnt.

Suthri looks up from his papers, somewhat annoyed by the unannounced distraction. “What news?” he snaps. “This had better be important.”

“I think you will think it so,” Horth says confidently as he takes another step forward.

Suthri puts his pen down and eyes his advisor with interest, knowing that the younger dwarf would not dare approach him like that unless he thought it was worth his time. “Very well,” he spreads his hands, looking down on the dwarf stood before his desk. “What news?” he repeats.

“My cousin, Hár, he trades with the men of Sarn down in the valleys. And it so happens that he overheard a conversation in the alehouse there. One of the men there has a brother who lives in one of the villages North of the Lhûn, near Khagolabbad Fahamu. And apparently this brother, it appears, has had a run in with our revered King.”

“Thorin?” He cocks his head at the dwarf before him. “What sort of run in?” Thorin had been forced to work in the towns of men as much as they all had – which is why he is still sat here in late at night reading his official papers, as he too spends his days crafting golden rings and other fine jewellery for the man’s folk to keep his coffers full. And he knows that Thorin’s loathing of that is one of the few things they had been able to agree on. So to hear that the bad tempered king has had a fallout with them is hardly a surprise and he is not sure if this news is worth his precious time.

But Horth is adamant. “I am not quite sure yet,” he shakes his head. “My cousin just mentioned it in passing and had not thought much of it. So I am seeking your permission to investigate further, _Zabadê_. It may be nothing at all, but it appears that the King’s shield, Dwalin son of Fundin, threatened this man’s brother and …” he flushes and feels himself cringe at the thought, “… and gelded one of his friends.”

“Really …” at that Suthri’s eyes grow wide and he strokes his long beard, wondering what could have caused the king’s personal guard to waste his time punishing man’s folk so severely at the risk of unsettling relations between their two races. Suthri considers the position for a moment. He does not like the men of Sarn. He does not like the man’s folk full stop, with their arrogant attitudes and misplaced superiority. But if there is more than simple bad blood flowing between Thorin and the valley folk from the North he wants to know what it is about and how he may twist it to his advantage. He can imagine some trade dispute or even arguments over land. But none would warrant the desexing of a man. And he can only imagine what fury this man must hold against the dwarrow king, which surely is something to be nurtured and put to his advantage if he is to fulfil his plans.

“Very well,” he nods. “Find out exactly what happened to bring Thorin’s wrath upon these folk and report back to me as soon as possible.” He waves a dismissive hand to send Horth on his way. As he settles back in his seat he feels rather satisfied that his advisor may have found something interesting for him. _Gorm will be pleased_ , he thinks to himself. _And if he is, Mahal will be too._ He is tied of his long life on arda now. Due to the greed and incompetence of the House of Durin he had had to flee his home, forced to live a life of exile, poverty, slaving for other races. Without even the prospect of an honourable death through battle as Thorin refuses to take back with force what is theirs. Perhaps if he can please Mahal, the Great Lord will soon relieve him from this miserable life and allow him into his Halls of Gold and Silver. Where sanumùradinhu awaits him …

***

Dwalin looks at Fili in surprise when he tells him about Thorin’s orders. “It will be my honour, little prince,” he nods to the blond and then he gives him a wide grin as he lift Fili off the ground and swirls him around the room as his lips seek Fili’s. “Thorin has been generous to allow us this.”

Fili snorts, “I think it was as much in his own interest as in ours. They have wasted no time at all to get re-acquainted.”

Dwalin laughs, “Aye, I did note that too when I saw Thorin.” He cocks his head at his younger lover. “Does that mean we too get to play tonight?” he says carefully. They are in courtship now so he may initiate, but he does not want to offend the young prince.

But Fili, bouncing back down onto his feet, make his intentions quite clear as he runs his hand down the warrior’s chest towards his breeches, where he cups him without hesitation. “I would say it does,” he winks and then takes Dwalin’s lips again, massaging them with his own as he pushes his tongue into the warmth of his mouth. Dwalin’s kisses are always urgent, hard and possessive and Fili loves that feeling of his tongue exploring him firmly, as if he wishes to make every little square inch his own. “Please …” he whispers as he feels himself grow hard under the eager touches. “Make love to me, Dwalin.”

The older warrior is surprised. It is a human phrase, not one that dwarves ever use in courtship. But it sends little pulses all through his body as he scoops his young prince into his strong arms and carries him towards his bed. “I will honour ya, little prince,” he grins, feeling his arousal stir inside his breeches.

Fili sinks back against the firm pillows, staring into the bright eyes of the big dwarf. “Mark me,” he says needily. “Mark me as yours.”

Dwalin lets out a wanton groan at the order. “As you command, _'Uzbadê_.” He starts to pull off his tunics and his belts and then pulls at the lacing of his breeches until the garment drops to the stone floor. When he turns back to the young prince, he finds that Fili has not hesitated to follow his initiative as he lays naked and splayed on the bed. “Y’re a treasure,” Dwalin gasps as he kneels down and runs his hands through Fili’s golden locks. “A fine golden jewel.”

“And you my rough diamond,” Fili smiles back as he eagerly waits for Dwalin to fulfil his order.

 Dwalin bends himself down and laps his rough tongue along Fili’s neck, enjoying this shudder from the young dwarf as he explores all his sensitive spots, just under his ear, in the dip at the bottom of his neck, and up towards his other ear, where he nips at one of his royal braids.

“Tease …” Fili groans softly.

Dwalin bites softly into his earlobe and sticks his tongue into his ear. “Aye,” he whispers as his large hand slides along Fili’s side, digging into the soft skin stretched over hard muscle. He presses his lips hard onto Fili’s again, burrowing his tongue deep into his warm mouth as his hand feels down until he feels the heavy hardness of the prince’s desire resting against his stomach. Fili groans into his mouth as his hand folds around his cock, squeezing him firmly. “Ye have a fine weapon, my lord,” Dwalin sighs as he pushes his hips forward, pressing his own length against Fili’s thigh.

Fili grins at him and bucks his hips, riding his cock into Dwalin’s fist to seek friction.

“Such an eager little fox,” Dwalin kisses him hard as he rolls onto his side and begins to work at his lover.

“Please,” Fili groans. “Don’t play.” He pulls up his knees to make his need obvious.

Dwalin nods and grabs the oil skin from underneath the pillows. He dips his fingers in the viscous substance and then brings them towards Fili’s entrance. Slowly he runs his fingers between Fili’s buttocks, gentle at first but soon more roughly as Fili groans and wriggles in encouragement.

“In!” Fili gasps as he tries to move himself down onto the teasing finger.

Dwalin laughs. “Y’re a demanding one, my royal cockslut,” he growls at the blond youngster.

“Aye. Then satisfy me,” Fili snarls back and he grabs for Dwalin’s cock.

Dwalin throws his head back as Fili’s nimble fingers trace up his length, until they start to circle the rim of his knob. “That’s good,” he groans and simultaneously presses against Fili’s pucker, not bothering to take it slow as the younger dwarf clearly does not want him to, and he enters him with two thick fingers.

Fili jolts at the sudden intrusion and can’t stop the cry that escapes his lips as his body freezes. He had played with himself, sticking his fingers in there and other things too. But it still feels so different to have another buck enter him like that. He almost loses his nerve, wishing he had been less demanding and told Dwalin the truth. But then the sting makes place for an intense pleasure as those coarse fingers stroking his walls makes him shudders in want and he speeds up his hand to ready his lover. He pulls the oil skin from Dwalin’s other hand and slicks up his prick, admiring the glistening of his purple cockhead, oil mixing with his the juices appearing like dew drops from his slit.

Dwalin is pleasantly surprised by how loud the young prince is as his fingers explore his tunnel eagerly. Normally Fili is so reserved, so quiet and composed. But in bed he is like a wild beast, he thinks, snarling and growling like a mountain wolf in heat. And he can’t wait to tame that wild gorgeous creature who writhes before him, delighting as he can feel the ring of muscle relax around his prodding fingers and his entrance open up for more. “Are ye ready then, _khahith?”_

In response, Fili pulls him by his cock towards him. “Yes, do your duty!” he growls deep in his throat at his new guard.

Dwalin shudders with laughter. “I hadn’t realised this came with me duties, _'Uzbadê_! But very well, I’m here to serve ya, master Fili …” he grins and with that he pushes the prince’s legs back even further and without any further ado he breaches his rim.

“Aaaaah!” Fili gasps. The stretch is so much more than he had expected and his eyes water at the sting. He bites hard on his lips as it feels like he is being torn open by the big dwarf, his hands clawing into the sheets, trying to relax but unable to as Dwalin pushes in deeper. “It … hurts … Stop!” he whimpers, his eyes wide.

Dwalin freezes. “I am so sorry, little Fee,” he answers, flushed, pulling back. “Did I not prepare you enough? Did I …?”

“I’ve not done it,” Fili blurts out.

Dwalin stills and looks at the blond in confusion. “Y’ve not done what?”

“This,” Fili shivers, crossing hig legs. “Been taken …”

Dwalin’s eyes grow wide. He had taken a buck’s innocence before, ones who had asked him to honour the final part of their coming of age ritual – a great honour indeed! But he had always known and he had always taken plenty of time to prepare his partner and taken the penetration slowly. “Why didn’t ye say?!” he gasps. “I would have taken it more slowly!” he utters in frustration and disappointment in himself for having hurt his prince. “Ye should have said!”

“I did not want you to think me weak,” Fili flushes.

“Weak?” Dwalin raises an eyebrow.

“I wanted to prove to you I could take it. I did not want you to think I was a poor lover.” He can feel his eyes brim.

But Dwalin shakes his head and takes his hand. Suddenly Fili looks as young as he is. Having seen Fili run the affairs of their kingdom in Thorin’s absence he had momentarily forgotten the young prince is barely of age. “Ya silly dwarfling,” he reprimands. “It is an honour to be the first to enter ya! But not like this,” he grumbles, his cock hanging limp now from the shock. “

“Kili has done it!” Fili utters in frustration, feeling himself blush even more fiercely.

 “This is not a tournament; there are no prizes for your injuries! If Thorin has taken Kili he will have done it slowly, carefully, allowing your brother to accept him and make it enjoyable.”

Fili looks at him, feeling silly now. He had worried so much about this moment, both desperate to do it and equally frightened to let his inexperience show.

Dwalin cocks his head.  “Why would I think ya weak?” he asks kindly, cradling his blond partner in his strong arms. “When I was taken for the first time I threatened to rip my bedpartner’s head off for causing me such pain! But then I learnt that it is an art form, little prince. Like forging a fine weapon. You cannot rush it, you need to prepare properly, the forge needs to be hot enough, the iron needs to be treated with care and dedication. If you rush it, the metal will be weak and shatter.”

Fili nods in understanding at the metaphor.

“Do ya wanna to try again, little prince?” Dwalin asks carefully.

Fili stares at him for a moment, the memory of that moment of pain hitting him a second time round. But he trusts Dwalin as much as he trusts Kili and Thorin. “Okay,” he says quietly.

Dwalin smiles and presses a soft, warm kiss on his lips. “If it hurts, we stop,” he says firmly and moves himself down as he starts to press little kisses onto Fili’s stomach. “There is no … rushing … this …” he says in between each wet kiss.

Fili soon starts to relax under Dwalin’s gentle kisses and the strokes of his large hands and his eyes close as he focuses on every touch.

“Good?” Dwalin asks.

“Yes,” Fili whispers. “Very good.” He can feel the drag of Dwalin cock along his leg as the older dwarf moves himself between his legs.

This time when his hand feels it way up his legs he feels even more nervous, anticipating the stretch that had overwhelmed him. But Dwalin knows how to handle him now and very slowly drags his calloused fingertips over the sensitive entrance between them. Fili’s initial tensing begins to melt away as his rim is teased gently this time, Dwalin’s thick fingers slicked with plenty of oil. He lets his legs fall open again to give his lover access. Soft moans escape his lips when Dwalin exerts a little pressure, but this time the intrusion is gentle and smooth, one finger teasing its way in first and stroking his insides, before a second slowly follows.

“How does that feel, gorgeous prince?”

“Amazing!” Fili gasps as Dwalin twists his fingers inside him and rub over something that send sparks right to the tip of his cock. “Ooooh!” he cries out, writhing over Dwalin’s fingers.

“Found yer special place there?” Dwalin grins smugly.

“Mahal’s blessed beard, yes!” Fili keens. His prick is pulsing pleasantly as Dwalin slowly drags his fingers over that spot inside him. He throws his head back in the pillows, enjoying that pressure that his lovers is exerting onto his button and then wails in pleasure as out of the blue he feels a wet warmth wrap around his cockhead. His eyes spring open and he stares down his body to find Dwalin’s mouth sinking down his hardness, swallowing him whole.  His hands claw at the furs on the bed as he trembles from the overwhelming pleasure, now cursing himself for being so hasty before, almost denying himself all of these amazing treats.

When Dwalin drops him from his mouth, Fili stares at him in disappointment. He was getting close and the sudden coldness on his tip makes him shiver. But Dwalin smiles at him and pushes his knees against his chest again, tilting his pelvis to expose his entrance. “Ya gorgeous wee fox,” he smirks as he starts to rub his crown over Fili’s now well-worked opening, making the young prince tremble even more. “This is how we do this,” he strokes the back of his legs, all the while rubbing the length of his thick cock between Fili’s buttocks.

Fili hums in agreement. He has never been taken care of this well before and suddenly he feels shame over the way he has treated his bedpartners, realising how much he still has to learn about bedsports. That it is not just about the pleasure of the giver – quite the opposite. That it is supposed to be pleasurable for both. An artform, like Dwalin had said. Like a battle sequence, coordinated movements that come together in perfect harmony.

By the time Dwalin lines his well-oiled shaft up with his entrance again he feels like he is floating on a cloud and although the stretch when his thick head breaches him is still an odd feeling, this time is is also pleasurable as Dwalin slowly slides past the tight ring of muscle and his thick cock rubs along his walls and over his pleasure spot. His lover takes it slowly this time, but not too slowly, allowing him to stretch and mould around his sword as he penetrates him deeper.

Fili smiles up into his bright eyes.

“Is that better, little prince?” Dwalin whispers as Fili’s heat wraps around him.

“Yes,” Fili pants. “Really nice.” He grunts softly as Dwalin moves to lie on top of him. He loves the feel of the weight and warmth of his lover pressing him deeper into the mattress.

As Dwalin begins to push his hips, driving himself deeper into the prince’s body, their moans fall in sync and Fili easy picks up the rhythm that his more experienced partner is setting. He pulls Dwalin in closer and presses his lips hard against his. “I like …. this,” he groans loudly into Dwalin’s mouth.

“Good,” Dwalin grunts back. “Me too.” And he slowly drives up the pace, penetrating his lover deeper, pulling back further, listening carefully to the right moans that guide him to set a pleasurable pace for both.

Fili writhes under the brisk pounding, which after the careful preparation he is now able to take well. And soon the assault on his prostrate makes him break out in a sweat. Dwalin must sense his need as next a large hand snakes between them and starts to fist his trembling cock. “Spill your seed for me,” he nips at Fili’s neck as he pulls him of with vigour and Fili could not stop the flow even if he had wanted to as he cries his release into Dwalin’s large hand, thick drips landing on his sizzling hot skin.

He shudders when Dwalin promptly brings his soiled hand to his lips and licks his still warm juices from his fingers. “Oh my …” he stares at his lover, excitement flushing through him, before his breath is sealed off as Dwalin pushes his own taste down his throat. He closes his eyes as he taste the saltiness of his seed on his lover’s lips and tongue, drowsy now from the intensity of it all.

Dwalin is panting heavily now and he feels the hot sweat on his skin as he wraps his legs tighter around the warrior. When Fili opens his eyes again he can see the pleasure spread across Dwalin’s face as his movement become erratic short thrusts, accompanied by deep throated grunts. He feels his lover’s cock pulse and release his juices deep inside him.

Moments later Dwalin collapses heavily down on him and kisses him hard.

“That was amazing,” Fili whispers in shock. “That was the best sex I have ever had!”

Dwalin smiles proudly. “We have only just started, little prince,” he says cheekily. “There is a lot more to explore still.”

Fili beams and snuggles himself into Dwalin’s strong embrace when the older dwarf rolls himself onto his side. “I look forward to that then,” he sighs and closes his eyes as he listens to the fast beat of Dwalin’s heart until it sends him off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nadad = brother  
> ezbad(uh) = (my) lord - lord of a very high rank  
> khahith = young wolf


	8. Prophecies

“Thorin?”

The king looks up from his paperwork and smiles at his new shield and lover. “Hello Kili. I did not think it would take you long before you optimised the new arrangement.”

Kili walks over to his desk and puts his hands on his uncle’s shoulders and he glances over at the desk. “You’re still working?” he frowns. “It is nearly midnight!”

“There is much to catch up, my love,” Thorin sighs and he leans back when Kili starts to knead the knots in his shoulders. “Your brother has done well to keep the kingdom going and take care of the most urgent matters. But these,” he points to a pile of parchment, “are all requests, pleads, applications, complaints and whatnot else that need to be dealt with by the king also. Arda did not stop when I did, little Kee.” He smiles up into the beautiful brown eyes of his lover. “Anyway, how are you?”

Kili places a kiss on Thorin’s nose and then pulls to a chair. “Can I ask you something, _irak'adad_?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Do the Valar speak to you? Has Mahal ever appeared to you?”

Thorin raises a surprised eyebrow at the unexpected subject. “Ehm … In the Temple, when I pray to him, sometimes I hear his voice. It’s not like when another dwarf speaks to me. It is more like a thought, something inside my head, but I know it is Mahal.” He watches Kili nods contemplatively.

“Lord Nowë told me that it’s a gift. That not all dwarrow can hear and see the Valar like I can.”

“He is correct,” Thorin nods, closing his ledger and concentrating on his beloved. “It is said to be a gift passed between the eldest sons of the House of Durin as descendants from Durin the Deathless himself. Although it appears that on this occasion it skipped the eldest and went to the youngest buck in the royal line. But the gift has faded over the centuries. You, little Kee, really are blessed if our Father and the Green Lady appear and talk to you directly.”

Kili blushes at the realisation. “I never knew …”

“Howcome you ended up talking to the elflord about this, _âzyungâluh_?” Thorin asks with a hint of suspicion that he is unable to leave out of his voice.

“Something happened, when I was at Lord Suthri’s court,” Kili begins softly. “I was upset, about us, about you sending me away. I wrote you a letter, telling you how I felt and that I loved you, which I then burnt because I knew I could not send it.” Thorin takes his nephew’s hand and rubs his large thumb over the back of it. “I think I went to the woods …”

“You think?” Thorin asks, confused.

“It is confusing. I am sure I did, but it was kind of like a dream too. I was angry and I ran into the woods and then I threw myself onto the forest floor and I called out to Mahal. I challenged him, told him that if I could not have the love that he cursed me with then he might as well take my life. I think I fell asleep then because when I woke up it was daylight. And then she appeared …”

“She? Who is _she_?”

“ _Kâmininh!_ _“_

“Ivanna?”

Kili nods eagerly. “Yes, I swear it, Thorin! It was like she appeared from the bark of the tree itself. She told me to ask her the question of my heart and I asked her why you. Why you were my blessing if we could not be together.”

“Oh, _gimliuh mim_ ,” Thorin kisses Kili’s hand, feeling his young lover’s ache in his own heart.

“No, no listen, she said that you _are_ my One. That there are trials ahead for us, but that we must remain strong. And then …” he screws up his face as he tries to remember the exact words, “… she said something else. Something I still don’t really understand. Something about a key, that I am the key … That I will return the heart to our people …”

“The Arkenstone …” Thorin immediately says.

“Pardon?”

“The Arkenstone. The Khuzdul name for the jewel of kings is _kurdu abadaz_ , the heart of the mountain.”

Kili stares at his uncle. “Of course! How did I not think of that?! So that means …”

But Thorin shakes his head. “No. I have made up my mind. We are staying here, I am making my kingdom here. I am too old to go hunting for treasures from under the feet of a fire breathing dragon. Azsâlul'abad is lost.”

“How can you say that?” Kili frowns. “You have never given up on our homeland before. I know you said perhaps we should stay here, but if it is Mahal’s wish …”

“I said _no_ ,” Thorin growls and he shoves his chair back hard. “I am not coming back on my word. That is the end of it!” Thorin makes ready to get up.

“She said something else,” Kili stops him. “She said the sun would rise on the throne of kings. Uncle we have to go back. I know it is my destiny to help you reclaim the throne and be king of the dwarrow!”

Thorin stares at his lover, his brain racing over the information he has been given. _Is there really a chance? A chance to reclaim Azsâlul'abad ?_ “No,” he shakes his head. “It is done. I prayed to Mahal for over a century.”

“Then he has answered your prayers!”

“Kili!” Thorin raises his voice and this time gets to his feet. “Do not make me say it again!”

“Fine!” Kili snaps back. “Suit yourself you stubborn dwarf! First you deny your blessing, now your destiny? You are playing with fire, my love. No wonder Suthri is questioning your dedication to Mahal!”

He does not see the slap coming and finds himself stumbling and falling onto the floor as he hand shoots to his cheek.

“You forget your place, _namadinùdoy_ ,” Thorin growls. “Get out!” He watches the brunet jump to his feet and storm towards his own adjacent chambers, slamming the door hard behind him.

Thorin's face contorts in anger and he finds himself bellowing out his frustration at the stone of the room hewn deep into the mountain. “WHY?!” he shouts to the gods above. “For years I begged for a sign, for anything that would lead me and my people back to our home. You remained silent! And now that I have promised them peace and settlement you want me to break my word? No! I will not! Do not play games with me, Master of the Anvil! I have served you loyally over the years. I have been an honourable dwarf throughout. But I will not abandon my people like my father did. I will not!”

He jumps when two arms snake around him and then relaxes as he feels Kili’s soothing embrace.

“I cannot …” Thorin sighs as he closes his eyes.

“Mahal says it is not your decision,” Kili whispers as he rocks his beloved. “Neither is it His. There are changes afoot. An evil is stirring. What will be will be.” He shakes his head as if awaking from a daydream. “I am fed up with prophecies and riddles,” he groans and then turns his uncle around and presses a hard kiss on his lips. “I love you, Thorin,” he smiles against his lips. “Whatever you choose to do, I will be right here beside you, as your shield and as your beloved.”

 “Thank you, _kurdelê,_ ” Thorin smiles. “And I love you,” he wraps Kili into a strong protective embrace. All the while his mind is churning over the prophecies that Kili has foretold and wonders what fate awaits him and his people. 


	9. Sowing the Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited 19/12
> 
> Thanks to witchesdelite for her contribution!

Gorm looks around the temple in satisfaction. Many bucks have gathered here today. There is hope for us yet! he thinks. The dwarrow have for too long accepted these infidelic ways that Thorin practices. Their prayers have become sporadic, their festivals and celebrations centered around self-satisfaction and greed. They have forgotten their true meaning, the true devotion to Mahal and the history of their race. But he will remind his lost brethren. Too long has he stood back and watched the House of Durin destroy their old traditions, their lore and faith. He will help their people find their righteous path again, remind them that they are here to serve and please Mahal, the great and mighty Lord of the Anvil, first and foremost.

He smirks as he looks around the gathered faces. Of course none from the royal house present here. They have not attended communal prayer for as long as he can remember. Those heathens seem to think themselves above the call for prayer. Well, it will only make his job easier to show the people how unfaithful their leaders are. 

He steps up to the altar, the statue of Mahal at his back, casting an intimidating shadow over those gathered here. "My brethren! Welcome to the Forge of our Maker! Our Lord smiles upon all those gathered here today, his brave sons, and gives you his blessing."

There are excited mumbles all around the room. 

"However," he continues after a moment, "look around you. Look whose places remain empty as we have gathered to pay our homage to our Maker. There are those who live in our midst, even those whom we honour and bow to, whom we look to for guidance and yet who are not here today. Mahal is displeased by those khazâd. Those who show no respect for the Mighty Lord of the Anvil. Those who give the faithful dwarrow of Khagolabbad a bad name."

He watches in satisfaction as heads are turned from left to right and names are whispered between those gathered. 

"I am fearful, my brothers. I am fearful of the wrath of Our Lord. I am fearful of his anger at he sees his children take without thanks for what He has given us. I am fearful of His smite when he sees how His laws are broken, how His guidance is ignored." He raises his arms as he raises his voice. "Tell me, my brothers of the Anvil, ARE YOU FEARFUL?!"

The whispers around the stone temple quickly rise in volume as the bucks look to each other for comfort, only to find uncertainty reflected back at them. 

"Honourable Lord Gorm," one younger dward dares to raise his hand. "I am a warrior! I am fearless!" he says bravely, cheered on by some of his brethren. 

Gorm narrows his eyes at the dwarf challenging him. "You fear not for your mortal soul? When you sacrifice your body in honourable battle, only to be turned away from Mahal's glorious halls upon death? You will risk eternal condemnation and suffering in the afterlife? Because I tell you that Mahal has sworn that those who do not abide His rules, those who live their lives in sin, will not enter His Halls of Honour!"

“I do not live my life in sin. I Iive a good, honourable life,” the warrior replies a little defensively, although he is wary of the Highpriest. “I live by Mahal’s laws and I do my duty for our people.”

But Gorm shakes his head. "You've been deceived. We have all been deceived! We are all guilty. We have allowed the evil to slip in like a cockroach. And now we must crush this pest before it becomes an infestation! We are warriors you say? And yet we allow our women to work in our forges! To sit at our council! Even to choose their mates at the festivals! Do you think the Mighty Mahal would see his honourable warriors rank below a dam who has never wielded an axe on the battlefield?!"

The crowd begins to mutter amongst themselves, initially in shock, but soon there are some mutters of doubt, of possible agreement. 

Then “He’s right!” an elderly dwarf shouts into the crowd. “In the days of King Thror no dam sat at the King’s council. Mahal would not see us ranked so low!”

“King Thror is dead,” another argues. “The old ways are dead. We answer to Thorin now. We have a responsibility to our new King,” the red-haired dwarf argues but this time with less certainty. What if Gorm is right? He is Ardsagart after all! 

“Your King?” Gorm smirks. “And where is your King now? Does the House of Durin not have to kneel down before Mahal? Is Thorin Thanu above devotion and faithful service to Our Maker? Do we now allow Thorin to rewrite the laws of our people, the laws which were told to the great king Durin the Deathless by Mahal himself?!” 

He carefully tries to take the temperature in amongst the gathered congregation. He knows he has to be careful; he does not have to answer to the mortal king, but he know he's not exempt from sedition laws and he is pushing the boundaries far, farther than he has ever done before in front of these simple folk. He watches the gathered bucks shift uncomfortably as they mutter amongst themselves and decides he's sown enough doubt to add a little more fuel to the warriors' fire, to fire up their pride as part of his plan.

"Mahal made us a strong and fierce race of warriors! For centuries armies fled before us at the mere mention of our battle cries! We fought at the great battles and we were victorious!" he punches his fist into the air and smiles when he watches the gathered do the same, seeing that spark alight and spread between them. "Mahal would see his warriors return to reclaim our home lands, our birthrights! Khazad-dum! Azsâlul'abad! The greatest kingdoms on Arda!"

"Yeah!" a passionate roar rolls through the stone temple. “Shamukh Mahal!” soon the cheers arise from the dwarrow before him. “Shamukh Mahal, shamukh Mahal!” the chanting rolls through the Temple, increasing in volume until Gorm holds up his arms to silence the gathered crowd.

"And yet... " Gorm pauses dramatically. "We hide here in foreign lands. We were promised it was temporary. That we were gathering our strength, training the next generation of warriors, preparing for battle!" And he realises his voice again, booming over the heads of the now reeled up warriors, young and old. "And yet we still hide! Yet we still cower! And now our king has forsaken our claim!"

"We should fight!" someone shouts out. 

"Yes, we should reclaim what is ours!"

"Oceans of riches lie in the East," Gorm reminds the dwarrow, reeling them on. "Dwarven gold, silver, jewels! Abandoned. Forgotten!"

"But what about Smaug?" someone challenges. 

Gorm grins widely as he is given the cue he had been waiting for. "You are right! Smaug the Terrible! Smaug the Destroyer! A calamity sent upon us as punishment!"

Gasps flutter through the hall like an autumn wind. Punishment?

"That's right," Gorm grins dramatically. "It was when the great King Thror fell to the sickness of the mind, when he failed to share the riches and heirlooms of our forefathers with ALL his people, with ALL OF US! But most importantly... " he stops the rumble of rising anger, "...when he failed to please Mahal by weakening our armies, by cowering from his enemies and failing to apply His laws, His word! It was then that Our Lord sent his punishment, his warning! Our people burnt because of the madness of a Durin king. And I warn you! I warn you that it will happen again!”

The anxiety and fear that pulses from those gathered is like a sparkling gem, glowing ever brighter. 

"Fear not, brothers," Gorm says eventually when the anxiety has reached what he deems an acceptable level. "I have prayed to Mahal for His guidance. And it is not too late! We can still avert his wrath. We can still repent for our sins and seek His blessing and forgiveness."

"How, Ardsagart?" someone at the back calls out. 

"We must look to the south," Gorm smirks. "To our brothers who have found the righteous path again, who apply to true word of Our Lord and honour His law! I say you demand this of your king! It is your right and his duty to lead us back towards the Lord's blessing!"

Gorm catches the eye of Hár, cousin of Suthri’s advisor Horth, who grins back in satisfaction. This is the damn of a new era. We have paved the path. We have reminded the dwarrow if their duty to Mahal and the failures of Thorin and the House of Durin. Now we let this fire smoulder, let the heat build up until it reignites by itself. Now we wait.


	10. Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to witchesdelite for being a great support and a wonderful guest writer and writing a great Bofur and Dwalin in dialogue!

Bofur reluctantly enters the chambers feeling somewhat nervous it is the first time he had requested an audience with the king and was surprised to be asked to the royal chambers as he enters he bows deeply. “Your majesty”  he says.

Kili steps forward to the visitor and pats him down, checking him for any weapons. “The King is tired. Make it quick,” he hisses in the dwarf’s ear, making sure that Thorin does not hear his statement as he would give him what for for telling any of his people of his weakness still.

Bofur nods entering the chamber properly. He looks at the king properly and can see how worn out and exhausted he looks, but nonetheless so close up Thorin looks intimidating and he swallows hard. “Your highness, I have requested to see you about an ehm …” he finds himself losing his nerve as Thorin’s blue eyes pierce through him.

“About a what?” Thorin says calmly, when the nervous visitor does not continue.

“An ehm … a challenge to your rule, Your Majesty,” Bofur almost whispers, shuffling his feet as he scrunches his hat up in his hands. “Treason,” he manages to find his voice and slowly looks up, getting to the point of his visit.

Thorin sits himself up a little straighter and looks at the dwarf standing before him. It has been a long day and he felt wary, but this buck’s plea to see him had sounded sufficiently urgent and of importance to allow him to visit him here in his working quarters. “Treason, you say?” He watches Kili shift in the corner of his eye. “Be more clear. Where and what have you heard?”

Bofur sighs heavily. “Gorm called all the bucks together in the temple for prayer. But he turned it into a forum to stir up hate and fear. He said how we are not following what Mahal wants, _Zebdarê,_ ” he says quietly, wondering why he had not just kept quiet.

Thorin looks at the skinny dwarf with his elaborate moustache and braids and smirks. “Gorm? Gorm has had an issue with the House of Durin ever since my grandfather ruled Azsâlul'abad. Thror made it quite clear that politics were his domain and religion Gorm’s and the Ardsagart never saw eye to eye with him or any of the Durins since. His ramblings are no news to me,” he dismisses the information, wishing for this citizen to go back to his own quarters so that he can take a hot bath and relax in the arms of his secret lover.

“Your Highness, forgive me, but Gorm he suggests you are not devoted to our Maker. I am sure he means for your people to turn against you” he says boldly looking the king in the eyes “ You must take this threat for what it is, sire. An act of war!"

Thorin exchanges a glance with Kili, who looks considerably more panicked by this news than he does. “War?” he repeats slowly. “That is a strong claim indeed, master dwarf." He leans himself across his table. "What is your name?” he cocks his head. He had seen this dwarf at the festivals, in passing, but had not exchanged words with him before.

“Bofur, son of Gofur” he replies. “And I only make such a claim because I am certain, he was rallying your people against you.”

“And do you believe that he would succeed in such an aim?” Thorin narrows his eyes at the claimant in front of him.

“I wish to warn you, that is all, my lord. I am loyal to my king,”  he says strongly “ What you choose to do with this Information is of course your choice, but he means to dethrone you, this I am sure of.”

Thorin nods slowly. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I will see it with dealt with,” he smiles curtly and motions for Kili to show the last visitor of the day the door.

Kili looks at his beloved wide-eyed, but does as he told. The second the door is shut he turns to face his lover.  “I knew I disliked Gorm for a reason. What are we going to do, Thorin?” he asks feeling panic rise up inside him.

“We?” Thorin raises an eyebrow and closes the appointments book before him. “I am going to call my attendants. Have them run me a bath,” Thorin smiles to Kili, rubbing his eyes.

Kili stares at his lover in disbelief. “Thorin you must take this threat for what it is. A threat against your rule!” he says walking over to him and taking his hands in his. “We must stop him.”

Thorin rises to his feet and places his free hand on Kili’s shoulder, looking him deep in the eye. “Kili, Gorm has tried to turn my people against me for as long as I remember. This is nothing new. Their loyalty did not waiver when I fell ill. I do not question the heart of my people, Kili, and neither should you.” He smiles lovingly at his prince and brushes his hand over his cheek. “Come, let us relax tonight.”

Kili frowns at his lover. “This is different; he has actively spoken out against you. And I am concerned Thorin.  What if it is different this time and he rallies the people against us? He’s not unintelligent and he is a strong orator. I have heard him preach before, seen him get everyone all riled up as he waves his arms about warning of the wrath of Mahal. He has the power to do it.”

“Alright,” Thorin sighs a little irritated that his lover will not drop this matter, “if it reassures you I will see you put some of my trusted spies out there to assess the truth in this buck’s words. But for all I know this Bofur, son of Gofur, is in league with that lecherous rat to try and unsettle me. Now, will you let it go for tonight? I wish to talk about more pleasurable matters than a mad old priest.”

Kili sighs knowing he is not going to win this fight. “Yes, I will for now,” he says, wrapping his arms around his beloved.

+++

“Are you alright, brother?” Fili enquires as he and Kili meet up the following morning for breakfast, “You look concerned.”

Kili sighs. “Not really, Fee. Thorin had an odd visit last night,” he admits sitting on the chair next to the blond.

“An odd visit?” Fili immediately feels himself turn to a high alert status after everything that had gone on recently. “What sort of visit? From whom?”

Kili can sense his brother stiffen beside him. “It was from a buck called Bofur. He claims that Gorm is trying to turn the people against Thorin. To overthrow him,” he says in a whisper. “I don’t think Thorin is taking it as a threat”,.

Fili frowns at his brother. “Gorm is the Highpriest. He has no claim to the throne of the king. Why would he see him overthrown?”

Kili shrugs. “I don’t  know, but I don't think we should ignore this,” he says eying their servants curiously “ I don’t know who we can trust and can't trust.”

Fili looks at the serious look on Kili’s face, seeing genuine worry in his big brown eyes. “Alright, Kili. I am sure if it was serious Thorin would have taken it for what it was. But if it makes you feel better I will go and talk to him. Is that alright, little brother?” _I am sure Kili is just being overly concerned about Thorin as he was not here when his beloved fell ill._ But there is also a more niggling thought in the back of his mind. _What if Kili is right? What if Gorm seeks revenge for the way Thorin had insulted him in front of the council?_ He tries to keep his emotions under wraps as he had been taught to do and thrown his baby brother a reassuring smile.

Kili looks his brother in the eyes “ Would you do that?” he asks feeling a little less worried _He will listen to Fili, he always listens to Fili._ “ I  know you probably think I am over reacting but I have a bad feeling,” he bites his lip in worry causing it to bleed.

Fili wraps his arm around his brother. “Of course I will. You worry too much about him, Kee. Thorin has led our people for over a century. He knows these games all too well. He is not going to let anyone overthrow him.” Then he looks at Kili more serious. “This dwarf ,,, Bofur? He didn’t know … He didn’t say … about you?”

Kili shakes his head “ No, I am pretty sure that is still a secret for now. But if Gorm starts snooping around then for how long I cannot say,” he pushes his breakfast away unable to stomach it. “I don’t trust Gorm, he is up to something” _I can tell the way he looks at Thorin._

“I suggest you are on your very best behaviour then, little brother,” Fili slaps him on the shoulder. “I will see you later.” He takes his plate and goblet to deposit on the counter and leaves for his chambers to get ready for the day’s work.

+++

Fili waits for the call that tells him to enter. He knows Kili is only in the chambers next door, but unless Thorin calls out the design of the rooms is so that his shield cannot actually hear what is being said between the king and his guest if they keep their voices at a normal level.

“ _Zebdarê_ ,” Fili bows his head to his king.

“Fili,” Thorin smiles and gets to his feet, grabbing his nephew around the back of his neck and pressing his forehead against his. “What brings you to my chambers addressing me so officially?”

Fili takes a deep breath. “Thorin, we need to talk.”

Thorin’s eyes immediately shift and he takes back his hand. “Kili spoke to you,” he states and turns his back, walking to the fire place and taking up his pipe.

“He did,” Fili nods, cocking his head at his uncle. “He is worried.”

“He worries too much,” Thorin shakes his head. “He is young, he is trying to prove himself as my guard. He sees a threat in everything.” He smiles at his heir. “Do not worry yourself, Fili. Gorm has a personal vendetta against the House of Durin, that has not changed since before we fled our home. I will tell you what I told Kili. My people are loyal to their king. They have followed me across Middle Earth, they have never shown their contempt or their disloyalty to the Royal House. I will not have some self-righteous priest sow doubt in my heart as to the loyalty of my citizens!” He looks into Fili’s blue eyes and when he sees the concern in there he softens his voice and puts a hand on his shoulder. “One day, Fili, you will learn that when you are king there will always be those who disagree with your word and who would see you fall, be them foe or dwarrow. You will have to accept that.But you cannot take every venomous word as an act of war or you will become paranoid of everyone around you.”

Fili nods slowly. Thorin’s words make sense. but yet on this occasion he remains unconvinced. _Gorm is not just anyone. He is not just shouting a drunken insult at his mates down the tavern. He is powerful and he is using his status and influence to manipulate the people of Khagolabbad. And Thorin is closing his eyes and turning his back on his enemy._

+++

Dwalin looks up as he hears the door open he puts his pipe onto the wooden table and wraps his arms around pulling him close as he can see worry behind the bright blue eyes “ What has you worried, wee prince?”

Fili feels himself relax a little in the strong embrace of his lover and shield. “Something is amiss,” he sighs. “Something is stirring amongst the Fahamûnh.” He looks into Dwalin’s sparkling eyes. “Well, _someone_ I should say …”

Dwalin gives his young lover a kiss “ What is amiss?” he asks softly wishing he could ease his worry. “ Who makes ya fret so?”.

“Gorm,” Fili blurts out, biting his lip. “I know uncle and he have never seen eye to eye. And obviously those relations have been strained even more recently. But, well … apparently he has been saying things in the temple. Whipping the bucks up into a frenzy over Mahal’s displeasure with Thorin’s rule and laws.”

Dwalin thinks about this. _Would not put it past the wicked old dwarf._ He thinks back to the history of the Durin line with the priests and how king Thror used to spit venom about the then young and eager highpriest whenever he tried to interfere in his decision making.“How do you know this my prince?” he asks running his fingers through his golden locks.

“Kili told me that some dwarf sought audience with Thorin last night. To warn him. Bofur I think Kili said his name was. But Thorin dismissed this buck’s warning. I went to see Thorin myself just now, before I came back here. But he seems completely unconcerned. I don’t know, Dwa. Says I should not question the loyalty of our people. That I am being paranoid. One side of me tells me that Thorin is right, that he knows what he is doing. But there is just something niggling. After what happened between him and Gorm. And it is not just him. There is Lord Suthri also. I … I cannot put my finger on it, but I do think that Thorin is too quick to completely dismiss this one.”

Dwalin is surprised by Thorins ignorance. _I know Bofur, he is a good dwarf!_ he thinks and can hear alarm bells ring in his head. He looks down at his prince and fights an inner battle, unsure if to admit he’s worried or not, not wanting to alarm the young heir even more. But in the end truth wins. “ I think we have every right to be concerned. Bofur would not lie about something so important as this”.

"You know this dwarf?" Fili asks in surprise.

“ Yes,” Dwalin nods, “he is an old friend. His father was a Drengr in king Thror’s army and served me father loyally in those years. I have know Bofur for a long while, even though we have not seen each other much since we settled here.”

"Would you speak to him? Please, my love? Find out the truth. I hate to say this behind his back, but I think we have to be careful to trust Thorin's judgement completely until we have all the facts." He bites his tongue, nor wishing to speak bad of his king or uncle.

Dwalin pulls his love even closer. “Aye, I will talk to him. Maybe Bofur is mistaken. Try not to worry yerself, my wee one, I will find out the truth.” _Even if I am pretty sure we both already know this is the truth._

"Thank you," Fili smiles faintly and closes his eyes as Dwalin strokes through his hair, letting him take care of his worries.

+++

Dwalin pushes the pint towards his old friend. "It's been a long while," he nods his head to the other dwarf as he offers him a seat by the fire.

Bofur takes a huge swig from the pint and sits in front of the fire enjoying the warmth it brings. “Yes it has,” he says a little unsurely as he glances around the private chamber of the king’s closest military advisor. He has a pretty good idea what has made the warrior request a meeting with him, but decides to not bring his conversation with the king up first. “So how have you been keeping?”.

"Very well," Dwalin grunts. "But let's not pretend we are here to talk niceties. I have always thought ye to be a loyal honest buck, Bofur. I know y’went to see the king the other night and I also know that Thorin gave ya little speaking time. Tell me, both as a friend and as the king's advisor, what do y’know of Gorm's little games?"

Bofur takes another swig. “He wishes to stir trouble between the house of Durin and the rest of the dwarven community,” he states clearly. “I know you are friendly with the king, Dwalin, and maybe he will listen to you”.

"Thorin and I are close as brothers," Dwalin admits. "But I worry that he does not heed this warning. He thinks Gorm has no influence outside the temple rituals. But I think he misjudges him and his power. Y’re closer to the common khazad. What do you think?"

“That they soaked up every word Gorm said,” Bofur admits, deciding to not mince his words. “The Ardsagart is up to something and everyone is falling for it”.

Dwalin's features contort into a deep frown. "There has been bad blood between the House of Durin and the Temple of Mahal for centuries. The people have never turned against their king, not even when Thror began to lose his mind. What makes you think they will this time?"

“Because Gorm told them to look to the south, at our brothers.” He looks  deep into his friend's eyes, uncharacteristically serious. “We both know what that means,” he says, taking out his pipe and loading it. “This is serious, Dwalin. I would never speak up if It was not”.

"Suthri," Dwalin mumbles, puffing furiously on his pipe. He looks at his old friend again. "What is Gorm promising the bucks? I've been in this job for long enough, friend. The dwarrow do not turn on their leader without a promise or a threat. Which is it?"

“A promise of a change in laws,” Bofur says, looking into the fire. “A change in the way things are run amongst the common folk. And the threat of dragon fire, of another calamity which he said would be sent down upon us our Lord himself. He claims Smaug was Mahal’s punishment for Thror’s faithlessness. He is ruthless,” he says in a quiet tone. “He will stop at nothing to see a change made and get what he wants,” he puffs on his pipe.

"What laws? What change?" Dwalin growls. "Come on mate, y'know I like things put to me plainly. The dwarrow have it good under Thorin. What do they wish for that their king will not give them?"

“He says that bucks should not be ranked below dams. He stirs that the House of Durin does not attend the daily prayers. And that includes yerself, Dwalin,” he says softly, a little afraid of the bigger dwarf. “He suggests the king is going mad, that he suffers the same sickness his grandfather had. And he speaks of the lonely mountain, blaming the Durin line for the loss and says that Thorin is cowering in his fortress when he should be gathering forces to claim back what is ours. He is fuelling their pride.” He can feel himself getting irritated with the questioning when no-one seems to be taking him seriously anyway. “Look Dwalin, I may not be a serious dwarrow but I am serious about this.”

Dwalin rubs his hand over his thickly braided beard and nods to his friend. "I know y’are. Thank you for talking to me." He pours the other dwarf another tankard full. "I will speak to Thorin. Now tell me, how have y’been?"

+++

Thorin sighs when Dwalin appears in the doorway and makes a point of continuing to write without looking at his friend . "I'm busy," he states curtly. "Come back later."

Dwalin enters the room despite the king's request to be left alone. “This is important Thorin” he says walking up to the desk. “And you need to listen to me”.

Thorin stills his pen and looks up slowly, narrowing  his eyes. "You forget your place, friend," he says in a neutral tone. "I will judge what is important and I will listen when I have finished this. Now be gone."

Dwalin moves the papers in one swift movement, smudging the last runes that Thorin had drawn. “You need to listen to me _now_. This is not something that can wait,” he says, looking into his friend’s eyes and seeing anger behind them, but he continues nonetheless. “I have spoken to the dwarf Bofur. He is a trusted dwarf and is certain Gorm is in allegiance with Suthri.”

Thorin stares at Dwalin for a moment, feeling his anger flare at the way his friend is talking to him. "Thank you, Dwalin," he forces his words to remain calm. "You are excused." He signs for the other to leave as per his order.

“Are you that pig-headed you cannot see?” Dwalin roars, feeling his own anger fizzle in side. “You will listen to me and see sense or you may lose your kingdom!” he snaps, glaring at this friend.

Thorin jumps to his feet, knocking over his chair which clatters onto the floor as he slams his knuckles down onto the table. "Are you threatening me?!" he growls back at Dwalin. "Are you saying I do not know what goes on in my own home?!”

Dwalin glares at his friend. “Of course I am not, I am warning you and you are too blind to see what they are planning,” he snarls trying to resist the urge to shake Thorin until he sees sense. “Kili is worried, Fili is worried, I am worried!” he snaps edging nearer his friend in a battle of anger. “And I will not leave until you see reason, you stubborn idiot”.

Kili comes rushing into the king’s chambers, alarmed by the shouting and crashing. He races to Thorin’s side, hand on hilt, but freezes when he finds his uncle and Dwalin staring at each other in a battle of wills, as Thorin holds his hand out to him not to interfere.

“Gorm is a fanatical lunatic who knows less about Mahal than most folk do. And Suthri is an old goat with ideas that are stuck in the Second Age! Now, if you have proof beyond doubt of either of them acting _ultra vires_ then arrest them for treason!” He narrows his eyes further at his old friend, prodding his finger into his broad chest. “Do you really think your little friend will stand up in court to condemn the Highpriest, Mahal’s representative on Arda, to death?” he growls, knowing full well that no dwarrow in their right mind would do something like that. “I suggest you go away and come back with something more solid than the word of a drinking buddy before you accuse one of my Lords and the Ardsagart of usurpation. Now leave or I will have _you_ arrested instead!” he bellows.

"You stubborn old fool" Dwalin snarls "It is not just your hide you risk!" he slams his fist down on the table before storming off.

Thorin looks at Kili who just stares back at him in anger and then turns his back, storming off also and slamming the door behind him. Thorin turns to pick up the chair he had knocked over and sits himself down, looking at the spoilt papers, blotches of ink spreading across the parchment. Then he feels a rage boil up inside him and screws up the now ruined papers in his large hands, chucking the ball across the room into the fire. “You are the fool!” he shouts after his long-gone friend. “What do you expect me to do? March up to the temple and accuse Mahal’s chosen one of treason?! My back is against the wall, why can you not see that?!”

Kili lies on his bed, listening to his beloved rage. Normally he would have gone out there and tried to comfort Thorin, but he is angry with him. _You are making excuses! Damn it, Thorin, you are the king! Use your influence like he uses his! Go out there and reassure the people rather than sit and hide here behind your ledgers and your scrolls. For once will you just listen to those around you or you might as well do away with all of your advisors if you will only listen to the voices in your own head, you stubborn dwarf!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and feedback make my day! :D


	11. Uklakh

Ryle looks at the stout hairy creature opposite him and smirks. "I have no business with dwarves," he spits on the floor. "Why would I tell you anything?"

“ Because I promise you I will make it worth your while,” Har says giving a promising smile and taking a sack of gold from his belt.“Now tell me what you know.”

Ryle eyes the bag with interest, but keeps his face straight. "Why do you think my word is worth your gold?" he asks suspiciously. "For all I know you're working for that mad king of yours. Tricking me to say something I'll regret. I don't bargain with dwarves," he snarls.

Har grins “ What can I do to convince you elsewise?” he asks taking a swig of ale.

The tall man considers this for a moment. “Tell me what is in it for you, dwarf,” he says, leaning himself forward. _If I know why he wants to hear this we can strike a better deal. I know them dwarves swim in gold!_

The dwarf says dramatically, “I have been sent here by his Lordship of the Southern Blue Mountains who believes that the King is displeasing our God. It is a great case of honouring Mahal our Maker.”

The men around the older dwarf look at each other and begin to laugh. “What do I care for your god?” Ryle smirks. “Or your honour?” Then he leans himself back tapping his fingers on the table. “Still, such a worthy cause has got to be worth a pretty penny. More than that bag of change you have there, master dwarf.”

Har smiles realising negotiations are underway and brings out a second bag. “As a deposit. Two more for when the king has met his fate,” he states with a smile. “And a promise of protection against any other dwarrow.”

“You think I need protection?” Ryle growls, but a glance at his buddy reminds him that that is not such a bad deal after all. “Very well,” he smirks, reaching for the bags of gold.

Har pulls one bag back quickly. “First the required information then on my honour you will get the second bag. Now tell me what I need to know,” he orders, knowing how to play this game having done it before. “What quarrel do you have with King Thorin?”

Ryle snarls, but nods and an evil smile plays across his lips. “Your king is not as chaste as he claims he is. If you want to know who keeps his bed warm at night, I suggest you look very close to home,” he grins wickedly.

Har feels the blood drain from his face. _Thorin beds a relative?_! He had expected some trade dispute, an argument over land perhaps or even just a word said out of place - after all his people were quick to take offence and Thorin’s temper was quick to flare, that was no secret. But this! _He is a sinner! No wonder Suthri is so concerned! Thorin will bring the wrath of Mahal upon all of us!_ He forces his face to remain composed as he looks at the man. _“_ I will need a little more,” he says. “A name.”

“I don’t know a name,” Ryle dismisses but then eyes the bag of gold again that the dwarf is pulling a little away from him. “But I do know that it is his nephew. Not the blond one that works in the forges, it’s his brother. I guess that would make him a prince, would it not?” he grins. “Now, you have your dirt on your king,” he reaches for the bag again.

Har lets the man take the gold and gets up from the table. “You have proven most useful,” he nods and exits the tavern.

He feels sick in the stomach at what he learnt tonight. Like many dwarrow of the Southern Mountains he knew about Suthri’s concerns about the way Thorin ran matters up in the North, but it up till now it has mattered little to him. His life was no better or worse for the fact that in the North dams and bucks ranked equally. And it wasn’t like the Southern dwarves were on their knees praying to Mahal every hour either.

So when his cousin had asked him to travel to this town of men to find out more about why the King had fallen out with some men’s folk he had seen it more as an adventure that would earn him some extra gold. Yet what he had learnt tonight turned his whole world upside down. Thorin was bedding his very own blood … To his people he claimed to be a virtuous and abstinent leader, sacrificing his own pleasure for the blessing of the Great Smith. And yet behind closed doors he spat in Mahal’s face as he carried out his wickedness. _Uklakh!_ He is a sinner! The worst sin possible! An incestuous, wicked king!

And with that disturbing information racing through his head he spurs on his mountain goat to report back to _Zabad_ Suthri in the hope that it is not too late to turn the tide.

+++

Thorin slumps onto the bed and grins as he feels the dip beside him, followed by the brush of lips against his neck. “This is lovely,” he smiles, his eyes closed as he pulls Kili close. Even despite the new arrangements Thorin had been so busy that they have hardly had any time for each other.

Kili slowly pushes his lips against Thorin’s running his hands into his dark locks. “I have missed you,” he whispers as he breaks the kiss, finding himself relax into the warmth of his beloved’s arms as he is pulled close.

“Missed you too,” Thorin opens his eyes and looks into Kili’s gorgeous brown almond eyes. “I regret that we have spent so little time together like this and I intend to make it up to you tonight,” he says softly, running the back of his fingers along Kili’s neck. “No more worries for tonight, my beautiful prince. Just pleasure.”

Kili tilts his head to the side feeling his lover place butterfly kisses along his neck, and smiles at the loving gesture. He searches for his mouth, pressing their lips together again gently to start with, enjoying the warm of his strong lover pressed against him.

Thorin slowly rolls Kili onto his back and runs his fingers underneath his tunic. “You are so lovely,” he whispers and wriggles himself down and presses kisses on his lover’s stomach, brushing his beard across his soft flesh, feeling Kili’s body hair tickle his nose. “I love every little bit of you, my sweet one.”

Kili looks at his beloved. “You are beautiful,” he says feeling his breathing get heavier. Kili lays his head back onto the pillow enjoying the delightful tender caresses of his lover. _“Amrali mê._ ”

“I never thought I would hear someone say those words to me,” Thorin smiles, then realises his admission and suddenly feels silly and unworthy. “I had … I was ... “ He sighs and rolls onto his back.

Kili leans over and presses his lips against his beloved’s again running his hand along his chest and letting it rest above his heart. He feels the quickened heart beat under his fingertips and as they break away he leans his head down and places a kiss over his heart. “You waited for me. You are my One and everything to me. _Sakrigi e,_ ” he says.

Thorin smiles a sad smile. “And yet I cannot honour you the way I should,” he growls softly in frustration. “I wish to shower you in riches, to have you sat by my side rather than hide in my shadow.” He yelps as Kili teases his hand under his tunic and tweaks his nipple softly.

“Shh, no more talk of that tonight. Tonight is about us,” Kili says softly, rolling the hardened nipple between his fingertips. He brings his head under the tunic and licks along the sensitive bud.

Thorin groans and closes his eyes again, pressing his head back in the pillows as the sensation of Kili’s warm tongue over the bud makes him tingle all over. “Good …” he whimpers as his nephew moved the wet warmth to his other niple whilst his fingers continued to play with the abandoned bud.

KIli slowly begins kissing down Thorin’s torso, gentle brushes of his lips against his lover’s hot skin. He moves his hand to his beloved breeches undoing the cords, and gently slides his hand down his body until he brushes against the hot hardness inside.

Thorin’s breath hitches as he feels the touch against his hard member. “Oh Kili, the things you do to me,” he utters as the prince wraps his hand around his shaft. His fingers are curling around the furs on his bed as the archer’s nimble fingers slowly begins to stroke along his length.

Kili smiles up at his lover then slowly takes his hardened member into the heat of his mouth. He wraps his lips around the soft tip and begins to suck and lick at Thorin’s weeping cock, all the while looking at his face through his eyelashes, taking in the beautiful sight of Thorin’s flushed skin and the pleasure painted in his widened pupils.

“Oh Mahal, Kili!” Thorin whimpers, staring down his body as Kili licks around the rough edge of his cockhead. “That is … that’s so …!” he whips his head back as he squeezes his eyes shut, the wet heat enveloping his sensitive parts. His fingers slide in Kili’s wild locks of dark hair, guiding him gently down his length as the vulgar noises spilling from his lips become increasingly incoherent.

Kili bobs his head along his lover’s length; every noise that he makes sends a thrill of delight over his body. He laps his tongue along Thorin’s slit, tasting his precum and softly hums along his shaft. He brings his hands up to Thorin’s sack and begins running his stones gently through his fingertips.

“Kili!” Thorin growls suddenly as the sensation rapidly forces him towards his peak. “Kili, stop …” He swallows hard, torn whether to let his lover finish him like this, but equally wanting to be joined with him. “ _Mahmarulmâli_ ,” he manages to force from his lips, trying so hard not to lose it.

Kili gasps at the phrase which sounds so poetic and so erotic in Thorin’s deep rumbling voice. He slowly removes his lips from his lover’s cock and takes his hand in his. “Yes, Thorin, make love to me,” he says, gently placing a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand.

Thorin nods and fights with his clothes for a little while, cursing himself for not letting his attendants help him disrobe before he took Kili to his bedroom. By the time he has removed the layer of royal robes he grins as he finds the brunet beaming back at him, laid out on the bed naked as he teasingly runs a finger down his own chest towards his hardness. Thorin gasps as he looks at the display before him. “You are the most beautiful treasure …” he swallows. “Mountains of gold fade into oblivion compared to you.” And he rolls himself possessively on top of his prince.

Kili can’t help but laugh at his beloveds mouthful of words and runs his finger through his thick long hair. “ You are the bravest, the strongest and the most beautiful sight in Middle Earth,” he smiles placing a kiss to the king’s neck.

“ _Albithi_ _mê_ ,” Thorin purrs, tracing his hands down Kili’s torso as he moves his pelvis against his lover’s, rubbing his pulsing need against his beloved’s sword.

Kili gasps at the friction as their swords touch. “As I do you, my king,” he gasps as sparks tingle over his body. He gently bucks his hips and lowers his head onto the pillow, as Thorin showers his neck with kisses.

Thorin moves himself so that he can access his sweetheart and brushes against his entrance, slowly penetrating his heat. “My blessed One,” he whispers, taking Kili’s mouth with his, dominating his tongue as he taste the younger dwarf while he prepares him.

Kili lets out a whimper as Thorin his finger twists inside him, rubbing over his sweet spot. “You are perfect,” he utters as waves of pleasure soar through him. “This is perfect.”

“Can you take me?” Thorin whispers against his lips, knowing that he has not given Kili much time to get used to him, but wanting to take him so badly it hurts. “Will you have me?”

“I can always take you, _marlûnel,_ ” Kili grunts softly.

Thorin kisses his sweetheart’s lips again and makes to replace his finger with his manhood, slicking himself lavishly with oil. He strokes his large hands over Kili’s strong thighs as the youngster lets his legs fall open wide.

The prince lets out a little whimper as he feels Thorin’s thick sword presses against his entrance and slowly slides into his heat. " _Murbelûnê_ ," Kili sighs once his lover is fully seated inside of him. He feels like he is filled to his maximum and groans softly.

Thorin briefly closes his eyes as Kili’s heat grabs him, pulling him into that delicious forge. When he opens them again he finds Kili beaming back at him, flushed with arousal, his cock lying heavy between them. “You are amazing,” Thorin whispers, lying himself forward to press a wet kiss on Kili’s lips, the movement causing them both to moan simultaneously.

Kili mewls when Thorin moves himself, dragging his thick cock against his all his sensitive places. Encouraged by his beloved’s sounds of love and delight, Thorin rolls his hips, pounding himself slowly but forcefully inside the younger dwarf’s sleek body. Every drag of his member inside that soft heat makes him shiver. The look of deep passion and pleasure in Kili’s dark eyes makes him want to be like this - joint, one - forever. But he knows he will not last much longer as he feels the stirring deep inside his belly that pulses into his privates.

“Kili. Will you come for me?” he groans softly, never taking his eyes from that beautiful face underneath him.

Kili nods and snakes his hand between the two of them, taking his own throbbing cock in his hand. He squeezes the full shaft gently at first, groaning as pleasure spikes through him. He can see Thorin's eyes dart between his face and the pulling of his cock, can see the heat build in his eyes and he knows his lover is close. Soon his strokes become urgent as he feels his stones tighten and his climax bubble up inside him. "Thorin, I.... I am.... " Before he has the opportunity to finish his sentence his warm essence spills between them, pumping onto his stomach. He pants through his release whilst Thorin increases his pace. " I love you," he mutters right on cue as Thorin's hips jerk between his thighs.

"Loveyoutoo," Thorin moans incoherently as he comes undone inside his prince.

Kili smiles happily as Thorin flops down onto him, burying his face in the hollow of his neck, feeling his stuttering breath as his body jerks softly inside him. He wraps his arms around his king’s broad back, rubbing his fingertips along his spine, delighting in Thorin’s soft whimpers were all his nerve endings have become so sensitive. 

“I wish we could do this every night,” Kili whispers softly in Thorin’s ear. “You make me so happy.”

Thorin looks into Kili’s eyes. slowly slipping out of him and smiles sadly. “I wish for that too. I hold hope that Ori returns and that he will convince Gorm of the truth.” He sighs and turns onto his back. “But I fear it is no longer about the truth. I fear there is a game at play in which the truth has become obsolete.”

Kili nods. “You must believe that dwarf, Bofur, Thorin,” he urges Thorin again. “I have heard gossip too, in the market, even down the forges. Little things. About hiding here in the mountains when we should be reclaiming our home. Even about the length of your beard!”

“Kili,” Thorin says, wrapping his hands around his face. “It will be alright. Let us not ruin this night.” And he silences any further words with a kiss.

+++

Balin looks at his brother pacing the room. “Thorin has a point,” he says softly. “We have to have firmer evidence than the word of some low ranking buck,

“He is trustworthy!” Dwalin growls.

“I am not saying he isn’t,” Balin says calmly. “But Gorm is of equal status to Thorin.”

“Then Thorin should sort him out”

“Yes,” Balin agrees. “Yes, he should.” He sighs deeply. “I will try and talk to him again. But we both know Thorin has put himself in a vulnerable position. He cannot afford a war of words and honour with the highpriest whilst he beds the young prince. I suggest we gather information, work out who can be trusted and build our case. Gorm and Suthri are playing a clever game and we need to outwit them, not go in axes raised or we will invite an all-out civil war. With Thorin’s name under question that may not end in our favour.”

“Are you questioning the honour of the _Fahamûnh_?” Dwalin snarls, banging his fist on the table.

“Yes,” Balin nods. “Because someone is sowing doubt into their hearts and Thorin is not countering it. I think we should consider the possibility that Thorin is losing their loyalty.”

To his surprise, Dwalin grabs him in an embrace. “Thank Mahal that there is at least one other dwarf who can see it,” Dwalin says. “I always knew you were the clever one, brother. Now you just need to convince Thorin’s stubborn ass or I swear I’ll smack that thick skull of his the next time I see him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uklakh - sinner  
> amrali mê - I love you  
> sakrigi e - you honour me  
> mahmarulmâli - let us make love together  
> albithi mê - I adore you  
> marlûnel - my perfect love


	12. NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

My beloved readers,

A lot of you have been asking for an update of this story. I have NOT abandoned it! In addition to a lot of things going on in my private life (not least of all falling head over heels with my beloved cowriter Delorita!) and the usual busy with work stuff, one of the main reasons for putting Lofn on hold has been because I set out to write this story in an as-emerged-into-the-dwarven-language and culture as possible.

My main reference for this has always been the great Master Kandral Strongbeard, aka the dwarrowscholar, my great teacher, who in turn draws his sources from grandmaster David Salo. And since I started writing this story he has significantly overhauled his dictionaries and teachings in order to make khuzdul a more natural (and therefore REAL!) language that grammatically is closer to the Semitic language that we would expect for our dwarves. However, this posed me with some real problems in that some of the words I had used in Lofn and certainly the grammar was out of date and inconsistent with newer words introduced later on. I tried to do an on-the-go update but I have found it is just confusing when in one chapter I love you is the old _men lananubukhs menû_ , which at best bears no resemblance to the updates neo-khuzdul of _amralizu_ and at worst is rude! 

So .... I am going to restart this story from scratch. Don't worry, most of it will be as was, although I do believe my writing skills have improved since I started so I am also changing some cringe-worthy sentence structures when I come across them. Most of all, however, I will completely revise the use of neo-khuzdul in the new version. So for those of you that are eagerly awaiting a new chapter, don't be too disappointed. It is coming! It will just take me a little while to put this back together again the way I need it to be.

 _Akhminruki astnu_ for your patience!

Finally, if any of you are as obsessed with the dwarves and their secret language as I have become, I have started a khuzdul lessons blog. This is as much an evolution as Lofn is as I am posting whilst I am learning. It is all based on Master Strongbeard's magnificent work and my own attempt as learning the language as an active user. Forever in his debt for all his patience answering my many questions!

[Khuzdul for Durins](https://khuzdulfordurins.wordpress.com/)

_ Zai  adshânzun!  _ At your service!

 

Lady Luna

 

 


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